


The Royal Wedding

by DracoWillHearAboutThis



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Angst, Crack, Established Relationship, Fluff, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Life at Kensington Palace, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Paris (City), Racism, Wedding, Wedding Night, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 51,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24107152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoWillHearAboutThis/pseuds/DracoWillHearAboutThis
Summary: HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE HENRY OF WALESAND MR ALEXANDER CLAREMONT-DIAZARE ENGAGED TO BE MARRIEDHM Queen Mary is delighted to announce the engagement of Prince Henry to Mr Alexander Claremont-Diaz.The wedding will take place in the Spring or Summer of 2025, in London. Further details about the wedding date will be announced in due course.Prince Henry and Mr Claremont-Diaz became engaged earlier this week during a private holiday in Paris. Prince Henry has informed The Queen and other close members of his family. Prince Henry has sought and received the blessings of Mr Claremont-Diaz's parents.The couple will live in Nottingham Cottage at Kensington Palace.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 453
Kudos: 872





	1. The Royal Engagement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acrazyworldofdreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrazyworldofdreams/gifts).



> Hello, my dear readers! So, this is happening. This fic has been inspired by the following tweet Casey McQuiston posted last year about how Alex would react in the face of everything that would be involved in planning a royal wedding, and I just couldn't resist writing it (https://twitter.com/casey_mcquiston/status/1136438898681372672). So this fic starts with the proposal, follows our boys through the wedding planning and ends with the eventual wedding. 
> 
> I'm excited to finally get started on it and I hope you'll enjoy it very much!! 
> 
> Special thanks go out to acrazyworldofdreams, who volunteered for a brainstorming session on this. This fic would still exist in the graveyard amongst my other half-baked ideas without you, dear, so thank you so much :D

Alex came to slowly as he registered the brightness of the Parisian sun shining into his face from where rays of it filtered through the drawn curtains. Instinctively, he reached out his hand, feeling across the bed for the warm body he had fallen asleep pressed up against, but when his blind search came up empty, he frowned and blinked his eyes open. 

Henry was indeed not in bed with him, which Alex, quite frankly, found an audacity. After all, it had been the Prince himself who had all but kidnapped Alex from their brownstone in Brooklyn in an overnight escapade to fly them all the way to Europe, just so they could stay at the same hotel they’d spent that fateful night at all these years ago and of which Henry still had the _Le Monde_ tucked away as memorabilia. 

Not that Alex had minded, of course. He’d just graduated law school three days ago and, quite frankly, felt like he deserved some kind of reward, and his boyfriend putting on his Prince Charming cape and whisking him off to a faraway land for a romantic getaway was just the thing he needed to get his mind off the stress he’d put himself through these past months. 

But now, said boyfriend was MIA and Alex was not on board with that. He’d had _plans_ for when they woke up. Plans that involved Henry and the bed and his iconic travelling lube. Alex huffed, rolling onto his back with a pout, his hand reaching for his phone so that he could demand for Henry to return _right this instance_ \- when his fingers came into contact with a sheet of stationary. Intrigued, Alex picked it up, unfolding it and squinting to try and make out Henry’s handwriting without putting on his glasses. 

_Alex,_ it read, _I’m sorry I sneaked out while you were sleeping, but I had things to prepare and I wanted to let you sleep in. In fact, I have a whole day planned for us today, so whenever you feel ready to move out of bed, I’m going to take you on a little trip across town._

_Paris is said to be the city of love, but I never felt that until we spent that night here all those years ago. I know that we were not officially together then, but looking back, Paris started a process for us. I’d been head over heels for you from the start, but spending such an intimate time here, away from both our families and responsibilities; sleeping at your side for the first time and waking up next to you; having breakfast with you and getting to see you soft and sleepy in the morning - it all felt like a very elaborate dream, like something I’d never thought I’d be allowed to have._

_And now I get to have it (almost) every day, with you. I still can’t believe it sometimes._

_I love you more than I could ever express._

_As you know, I’ve been to Paris quite a bit throughout the last few years for work, and each time I get to visit this beautiful city, all I see in every corner of this town is you, Alex. And that’s how I want to show it to you today, sweetheart. I want you to see these picturesque sights through my eyes, and I want you to know how you’re with me wherever I go._

_I hope you are ready? Please take a shower and get dressed. Then, let Cash bring you to a beautiful little Boulangerie for breakfast. He knows where to go, and you will find my next message there._

_Love,_  
  
_Henry_

Alex leaned back against the pillow, grinning as he took a minute to reread the letter, allowing himself to savour it. It’d been so long since Henry had written him anything - with them living together, there hadn’t been any need, really, and even when they were on separate continents due to their duties, they usually made a point to talk on the phone or text nowadays - but this was _nice._ This felt like the early days of their relationship, when they’d exchanged long, heartfelt emails, and Alex allowed himself to bathe in it for a moment. Then, he got out of bed and under the shower, figuring that it was in his best interest to follow Henry’s directions. 

***

It turned out Cash was indeed in on Henry’s plan, whatever that was, and he led Alex down the street with a smug smile, not answering any of his charge’s pointed questions. It was a tiny bit frustrating, but then again, whatever Henry had planned, the surprise element was sure to be a part of it. 

The bakery was only a couple of minutes walk from the hotel, and it seemed like the staff had already been expecting Alex. They smiled brightly when he entered the shop and grabbed a paper bag they had prepared from behind the counter, pressing it into his arms. When Alex tried to pay them, they refused. A bit stunned and thanking them clumsily in his crappy French, he left, glancing into the bag once he was back out on the street again. 

There was a large variety of baked goods inside, from baguette to croissants to pain au chocolat and a box of macarons, and on top of it, there was another letter in Henry’s familiar stationary. 

“Come on,” Cash grinned at him. “You can eat once we’re at your next destination.”

Alex raised his eyebrows at him but didn’t protest. Instead, he gestured for Cash to lead the way. 

They walked for a couple more minutes until they reached the Seine, and Alex found himself recognising the familiar tourist spots around him. He could see Notre-Dame from afar, and the Louvre, and these bridges in front of him, though he did not know them by name, were sure to have been on half the postcards he’d come across. 

Cash led him over one of those bridges, halfway across the Seine, and then they descended down towards a small garden near the water. There were a couple of other people around, but it still seemed early enough to not be too crowded. Cash found him a free bench and Alex sat, taking in the beautiful scenery - the artistically constructed garden, the water flowing around them, the city in the background. Finally, he reached into the bag and drew out Henry’s letter.

_Alex,_

_welcome to Square du Vert-Galant. Did you know that this square was built as a tribute to Henri IV, or Henry the Great, and his mistresses? It amuses me every time I pass by here. Maybe I should present you with your own garden at the Thames? Then again, I’d doubt it would have the same effect, though at least,_ you _are my official suitor. I am already ‘out-romancing’ Henri IV without even trying._

 _It still amazes me that we made it this far. Generations of royals all over the world were forced to marry for political gain and love in silence and yet, here I am, allowed to love you publicly. It’s a miracle I am grateful for each day. I am grateful for_ you _each day, my love, for making me fight for this, and for making me believe that there was something better for me out there._

_Please enjoy your breakfast and maybe, you will find joy reflecting in how much history has changed since Henri IV, as well._

_Love,_

_Your Very Own Henry_

Alex was smiling sappily by the time he had come to the end of the letter, drawing a tender thumb over Henry’s signature. He looked up at Cash sheepishly. 

“How many more of these can I expect?” he asked.

“Just eat your breakfast and stop asking questions,” Cash laughed, shaking his head.

Alex chuckled and did just that.

***

Next, Cash walked Alex to another bridge just across from the little garden where Alex had had his breakfast. There, he handed him his next letter, and Alex grinned as he leaned against the railings to read it.

_Alex,_

_this is the Pont des Arts, or more famously known as the Love Lock Bridge. It’s become a recent tradition to fix engraved locks with names of yourself and your loved one onto the railing and drop the key into the Seine. It is now officially banned by the government, for the weight of the locks was a danger to the foundations of the bridge, and the keys littered the water. Some people still do it, as you can see, and every time I’m here, I laugh at the thought of how this whole thing would infuriate you._

_You won’t believe it, but one of my favourite memories about the time before we became more than friends was actually your Thanksgiving Turkey Call. Apart from the fact that you distracted me from my insomniac brooding with your charming, manic self, I have always adored your passion. How could I ever not have fallen for the boy who insisted that menacing prehistoric predators sleep in his room to save state budget, and who didn't even consider the factor that he was truly afraid of them?_

_I want you to never lose that fire, darling. The world will always try to beat you down, but you are good and special and I want you to know that no matter what happens, I will always be here to love and support you, and to take your after-midnight Turkey Emergency Calls._

_Yours (in an attempt at being romantic without endangering precious landmarks),_

_Henry_

Alex was laughing to himself by the time he had reached the end of the letter. God, he’d almost forgotten about the Turkey incident. Not one of his finest moments, admittedly - and yet, Henry seemed to remember it fondly, which really, should probably tell Alex all about their relationship, he reflected. Because which sane person would deal with Alex in such a state and enjoy it? Obviously, the poor boy was out of his mind with love. 

Alex turned to rest his elbows against the railing, looking out over the city. It was funny, he thought, how Henry often picked out his most quirky traits and twisted them into something positive. Alex had always tried to contain himself a bit in front of everyone who wasn’t family or Nora, had deep down known that his whole personality just tended to be _too much_ for most, but Henry just seemed to revere exactly those layers he tended to keep hidden. It made Alex feel light and free in a way nothing else ever had, this unconditional acceptance of who he was. 

At long last, Alex glanced at Cash once more, who was standing a safe distance away, giving him some privacy. “So,” he asked. “Where to next?”

“Follow me,” Cash smiled.

***

They walked for about ten minutes along the outer borders of the Latin Quarter and Alex, history nerd through and through, let himself be distracted by the ancient buildings around him and the scenic atmosphere. 

At long last, the streets gave away to a grand palace (making Alex wonder idly just how many palaces Paris had? Then again, as the boyfriend of British royalty, maybe he would do best to shut up lest he’d be rightfully lynched). He looked at Cash a bit unsurely, who had tensed just so in the face of all the tourists milling around now that the hour was more moderate. 

“Where are we?” Alex asked.

“Luxembourg Palace and Gardens,” Cash answered. “It’s the French Senate.”

“Oh,” Alex’s eyes rose, looking up to take in the building. “Nice.”

“We’re going through to the gardens,” Cash said, stirring him towards the gates, sure to keep close to him. Alex wasn’t too worried, though. A couple of people glanced at him, but most seemed too preoccupied with their own sightseeing to pay much attention to the celebrity in their midst. And even if someone came up to him, he’d snap a few photos and be on his way.

The gardens behind the castle were indeed quite a sight: people were picnicking on the grass, sitting on the benches or taking a walk along the alleyways; flowers were blooming in their beds and there was a large circular fountain in the heart of the scenery. Alex fell into step with Cash, taking everything in, only looking up when Cash held another letter under his nose. With a smile, Alex took the letter, opening it to read.

_Alex,_

_in Les Miserables, Marius and Cosette meet at the Luxembourg Gardens. They make eye contact for the first time and she falls in love with him - which is something I can deeply relate to. I still remember how deeply shook I was the first time I laid eyes on you at the Olympics._

_Maybe I can use the words of the Les Mis author Victor Hugo to express it:_

_“The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only.”_

_I remember doubting, before I met you, that love would even exist for me, not to mention that love at first sight was something that could happen in real life, rather than only in our most treasured love stories. But you, Alex, proved me wrong on both accounts. I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you, and I’m sure I’ll love you till the moment I die._

_Before I let you enjoy a walk in these beautiful gardens, let me tell you a fun fact about who was responsible for their creation: They were built in 1611 on behalf of Marie de Medici, who was the widow of Henri IV - again, dear Henri pops up, doesn’t he? The Palace was built in imitation of the Pitti Palace in her native Florence, and it’s now used as the French Senate. Of course, I can’t send you on a tour through Paris without sprinkling in some political sights, now can I?_

_I know things aren’t always going to be easy, but please know how proud I am of you for going after your ambitions. You will make a brilliant politician, and you will make the world a better place. I will be with you every step of the way._

_Congratulations again on graduating law school, love, and good luck on the next phase of your plan, once you decided how it’s going to look like._

_Love,_

_Your_ ~~_Cosette_ ~~ _Henry_

Alex felt warm all over as he folded up the letter, putting it safely into his pocket with the others. He continued walking alongside Cash in silence, taking in the sight of the ancient palace, Henry’s words echoing in his head.

“You want to move on?” Cash checked.

“No,” Alex grinned. “Let’s walk a bit more. I like it here.”

***

Cash had a car waiting for them to get to their next destination, which was back at the Seine, and another bridge. This one was remarkably more extravagant in terms of architecture, though, and as they got out of the car and walked onto the bridge, Alex took a moment to just admire the antique design of the lamplights, the gold on the railings and the beautiful, intricate sculptures. 

When Cash pushed the next letter at him, Alex’s fingers were already twitching in anticipation.

_Alex,_

_this is my favourite bridge in Paris - the Pont Alexandre III. Too on the nose? No, but I promise it’s not (just) my favourite bridge because it has your name in it!_

_I just love the architecture of it. It’s by far the most ornate and beautiful bridge in the city. It was actually a gift from Tsar Nicholas II in 1896 to honour the Franco-Russian Alliance. The bridge was named after his father, Tsar Alexander III._

_It was also used for countless scenes in pop culture. Knowing you, you’ll be familiar with it from Adele’s “Someone Like You” Music Video, but that’s not what I’d like to use as an example - much too wistful for us. Rather, because I loved it as a child and because it at least leans on Russian culture, I’ll refer to the animated movie “Anastasia” from the ’90s. I’m not sure if you ever watched it, but if you did, the climax was set on this very bridge. Anastasia rose up to defeat Rasputin and decided to give up a life as a Romanov to be with the man she loved, and that, as a small boy, shook me deeply. My grandma_ hated _me watching the movie - she went as far as taking the DVD away from me, but my father bought a new one because I cried for days. I was four, I think?_

_I still have that DVD._

_I’m sure when we sat there at Buckingham Palace after our relationship had leaked, defying her will, my grandmother couldn’t help but remember that bloody DVD and cursing American pop culture and their ungodly influence. Who would have thought I’d be stood in front of my family at some point, fighting for the man_ I _loved, ready to abdicate if they weren’t going to let me be with him? Maybe she had always known it, and that’s why she had banned “Anastasia” from our home. Good thing my father had never listened to her._

_Speaking of my father, he, too, once shot a movie here. One of his Bond installments took him here. So this is a special place in more than one way._

_I’m sure he would be proud of the life we live, Alex. Looking back over the years, I’m more and more certain that he knew I was gay, or in the very least, that I was different from Philip, and not meant for the life he was living. So maybe, his sneaking me back the DVD was a way of him giving me his blessing - of him telling me that no matter what life I decided to live, he would be okay with it._

_It’s what I want to believe._

_Yours forever,_

_Henry_

Alex’s eyes were wet by the time he had reached the end of his letter this time. Even after all these years, Henry rarely spoke about his father - that he was bringing him up now, like this, really said a lot about how much Henry was opening up to him through these letters. 

Alex’s fingers traced the railing of the bridge and he closed his eyes. “I’m going to take good care of him,” he promised, under his breath. “Don’t you worry about it.”

He lingered on the bridge for a long time, staring unseeingly into the direction of the Eiffel Tower, and Cash did not push him to move on.

***

When they reached their next destination, it was already well into the afternoon. Alex had had some more of the leftover pastries and Cash had made a quick stop in between to get some cheese to go with the baguette - cheese and bread, because Alex was nothing if not cliché when he was abroad - so when he got out of the car, he was well strengthened for what awaited him. 

Instead of the picturesque Seine or the Latin Quarter, he was faced with a residential area. He frowned at Cash, but the other just smiled and gestured for Alex to follow him. 

Eventually, they came across a small square with benches and plants, facing the wall of an apartment complex. Said wall had large, black tiles fixed to it, and there was writing all over them - as Alex stepped closer, he found that it was short sentences in many different languages. He stared, his eyes travelling over the writing for a long time, until his eyes zeroed in on a language he understood - right on the top, towards the right, he could make out: _‘Te amo.’_

It dawned on him, then, and he smiled as he looked at the writing once more, trying to figure out the language, looking for familiar ones. The French version was right in the middle. He found the other Spanish version - ‘ _Te quiero’_ \- before he finally found English, which seemed to almost get lost in the middle of it all. 

Eventually, Alex looked up to accept the letter Cash was already holding out to him. He sat down on a free bench to read it.

_Alex,_

_I hope you enjoyed the little scavenger hunt I prepared for you, for this is my last letter. I have brought you to Le Mur des Je t’aime, The Wall of Love. It’s was created in 2000 by the artists Fédéric Baron and Claire Kito, and displays 300 versions of the phrase ‘I love you’ in 250 languages and dialects. I thought this was a good last stop seeing that, while we may speak the same language, our heritage has always been a huge part of who we are, as people and as a couple._

_When I first came here, Alex, I did not look for English, as a priority. I spent the most time looking for Spanish. I know you tend to joke about the fact that me dating a POC is a nightmare to the Crown, but Alex, I don’t ever want you to let anything my grandmother or any stupid Brexit trolls might say get to you._

_Te amo_ porque _eres tú: Americano, Mexicano, especial y brillante._

_Te amaré para siempre._

_Con cariño,_

_Henry_

_PS: There is one more destination for you. I will see you there._

Alex smiled softly as his eyes traced over the last paragraph again and again. 

_I love you_ because _you’re you: American, Mexican, special and brilliant._

_I'll love you forever._

Finally, Alex looked up at Cash, quite done with being apart from Henry for the day. 

“Bring me to him,” he said, and Cash nodded with a fond smile.

***

It turned out that Henry was waiting for him at the small café right around the corner from their hotel, the one where they had spent the evening at all those years ago. He grinned when he spotted his boyfriend sitting at that very same table, a bottle of red already prepared.

“You romantic shit,” Alex greeted him as he approached, and Henry looked up, his smile sheepish.

“I’m sorry?” he tried, getting to his feet.

“Don’t you dare apologise!” Alex warned, pulling him into a deep kiss as soon as he was close enough to touch. Henry hummed against his lips, his arms wrapping around Alex’s waist. When Alex pulled back just enough to look into Henry’s blue eyes, he breathed: “Those letters, Hen - honestly, what did I do to deserve such treatment? Did I forget our anniversary or something?”

“You didn’t forget anything,” Henry smiled. “I just wanted to do something for you, now that you’re finally free of course work, essays and presentations.”

“You’re incredible,” Alex shook his head, grinning as he pressed another kiss to his lips. “I fucking love you, you know that?”

“I love you, too,” Henry whispered, his gaze intense. “You don’t know how much.”

Alex cocked his head to the side and asked: “Baby?”

“Actually,” Henry said, sticking his chin out in the way he did when he found the courage to press forward with something, “your surprise isn’t over yet.”

“Oh?” Alex asked, blinking.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Henry suggested, and Alex did so hesitantly, his eyes on Henry all the time. Henry did not move, and his hand fumbled with the pocket of his blazer jacket, disappearing inside, withdrawing again, then diving back in. 

Finally, he cleared his throat and then, in one swift movement, Henry lowered himself onto one knee in front of Alex, and Alex -

Well, Alex's brain short-circuited. He just stared dumbly as Henry drew out a ring box - a fucking _ring box_ , as if it hadn’t already been clear what was happening, and really, Alex was quite sure he wasn’t breathing - and then he caught Alex’s eyes.

“Alex,” he began, and his voice was trembling just a little. “Sweetheart - you know me. I’m better in writing than I am with spoken words, which is part of why I wanted to get my feelings written out before we got to this part. Nothing I come up with ever feels like enough for how much you mean to me, and how much I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I can just pray and hope that somehow, my feelings translate and that you feel the same. Living with you these past years has been… like something out of a dream, and I never want it to stop. So, Alex… will you marry me?”

He opened the ring box to reveal a silver band, simple and adjourned with a straight row of three diamonds through the middle. Classy and masculine, not too simple and yet not too flashy - it was clear that Henry had taken his time looking for something that would fit Alex’s taste. 

Alex only realised there were tears in his eyes when his vision of Henry got blurry. He tried to blink them away, but it didn’t work, and then he thought, _fuck it_ \- his own Prince Charming was proposing to him, who could begrudge him a couple of tears, right?

“I can’t believe you have to ask,” Alex scoffed, sending Henry a watery smile. “ _Of course_ it’s a yes, you fucking moron, oh my God.” Henry’s answering smile was blinding and Alex leaned forward to reach out for him. “Get up here,” he muttered. “I need to kiss you right now, I swear -”

This was how far he got before their lips met in a desperate kiss and faintly, Alex registered applause around them. Right, so they had been recognised. Alex couldn’t care less. He just kept kissing Henry, overwhelmed by the sheer happiness he felt. 

He’d decided long ago that Henry and he were forever, but now, it was official that he got to keep him, and that felt _amazing._

When they came up for air again, Henry reached out to wipe away a couple of stray tears that had escaped him with tender fingers. “Can I put on your ring?” Henry breathed, sounding like he was trying to suppress how giddy he felt. It made Alex smile.

“Go wild,” he answered, and Henry pulled the ring from the box and reached out for Alex’s left hand. His touch was gentle as he pushed the band onto his ring finger - Alex watched the process for a moment, then he looked up at Henry’s face, watching the soft look on his face as he performed the act. He looked so _happy_ , and Alex’s heart ached. At last, the ring sat past the second knuckle, a perfect fit, and Henry met his eyes again, positively glowing. 

Alex couldn’t help but kiss him again. He thought someone was snatching photos somewhere, but he couldn’t find it in him to be annoyed. Let Cash and Shaan, who was most definitely lingering around somewhere, take care of that. This was _theirs_ , and short of a hurricane, he was not going to stop kissing his fiancé. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! Just dropping in to remind you that I'm not French or from Paris - I've been there before, and I tried to make this as accurate as possible, but if there are any inaccuracies, I am sorry. Also, I am no ace in French history, so if anything doesn't add up, I apologise - I'm sure about the Pont Alexandre III part (as well as the Love Lock Bridge), since my Parisian friend, who studied history, told me about it, but the rest is Google and Wikipedia knowledge. 
> 
> Last but not least, though I do speak a bit of Spanish, I have gotten a bit rusty, so if there are any mistakes, I apologise.


	2. Moving to Kensington

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! 
> 
> I'm so excited to see that you've all enjoyed the first chapter of this story so much!! Thank you for your amazing responses :D Now, I am back with the second chapter and the move to Kensington. 
> 
> I want to take this opportunity to point out that I'm neither a native speaker nor British (or American) - so there might be mistakes in language or especially, royal protocol throughout the story. While I will, of course, be doing basic research, this story is meant to be a fun escape from life first, and I don't intend to make it a research project on the lives of British royalty - so any inaccuracies that may turn up, I am quite okay with them, and I ask you to please be, too.
> 
> And now, please go ahead and enjoy the second chapter! :)

**HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE HENRY OF WALES**

**AND MR ALEXANDER CLAREMONT-DIAZ**

**ARE ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED**

HM Queen Mary is delighted to announce the engagement of Prince Henry to Mr Alexander Claremont-Diaz.   
  


The wedding will take place in the Spring or Summer of 2025, in London. Further details about the wedding date will be announced in due course.    
  


Prince Henry and Mr Claremont-Diaz became engaged earlier this week during a private holiday in Paris. Prince Henry has informed The Queen and other close members of his family. Prince Henry has sought and received the blessings of Mr Claremont-Diaz's parents.    
  


The couple will live in Nottingham Cottage at Kensington Palace. 

***

Alex perused the statement Clarence House had posted with raised eyebrows on his phone, leaning back against the well-cushioned airplane seat. “Nottingham Cottage,” he repeated, rather drily. “Good to know.”

“Be grateful, it’s a bit on the outside,” Henry chuckled. “We won’t run into anyone unless we want to. And once we’re married, we can move back to Brooklyn, so it’s only temporary.”

“Have you already told the Queen that we’re not planning to stay in the UK?” Alex asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes, though I’m not sure the message got through,” Henry shrugged. “I told her we’re not getting rid of the brownstone, and her answer was that it was always good to have a second estate, so…”

“I see this going to be fun,” Alex commented. 

“At least Philip and Martha live at Anmer Hall, so he won’t bother us at Kensington,” Henry pointed out, a little apologetically. “And Mum and Bea will do their best to keep everyone off our backs.”

“What exactly is going to go down once we touch down in London?” Alex asked, a little tentative now. “Like, is a horde of the Crown’s personnel going to descend on me the moment I step out of the plane, or -”

“No, Alex,” Henry interrupted him quickly, though his jaw was tight. “I’m pretty sure my grandmother is going to delegate someone to us, yes, but if there’s anyone trying to pick you apart, they’ll have to face me.”

“I like it when you get all bossy and princely,” Alex grinned, biting his lip. Henry rolled his eyes, though his cheeks were flushed slightly. 

“You’re a menace,” Henry sighed, but there was a fond smile on his face. “Why am I marrying you again?”

“Beats me,” Alex smirked, but he reached out to entwine their fingers, resting their joined hands on the armrests between their seats. 

“In all honesty, though,” Henry continued, frowning a little now. He caught Alex’s eyes, expression serious now. “Don’t let them push you around. If they had their way, they’d shove you into a box and make you into a cutout-version of Philip, and I  _ really _ don’t want to marry my brother.”

“I’d be worried if you did,” Alex made a face, making Henry smile. “The whole incest thing aside, I know you royals aren’t all that fussy about inbreeding, but I’d be appalled by your lack of taste. I mean, nothing against poor Martha, but -”

“Okay,” Henry laughed, squeezing his hand as he cut him off. “On second thought, I think you’re going to be just fine. Just go off on whoever tries to force Royal Protocol on you like that and I’ll have nothing to worry about.”

“Damn well you don’t, baby,” Alex grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to Henry’s cheek. “You know I can take care of myself. Tell the Queen to bring it.”

Henry shook his head, still laughing, but his worries seemed acquiesced for now, and that was what mattered. 

***

Nottingham Cottage surprised Alex in being actually quite charming. It was not too huge or opulent, and since it wasn’t part of the main palace, it indeed felt a bit on the outside of all the hustle and bustle. 

When they entered the house and the staff dropped off the bags they had packed from their short trip to the brownstone, Bea and Catherine were already waiting for them, sitting at their new dining table with champagne and orange juice and the brightest smiles. 

“You’re here!” Bea beamed, crossing the room to wrap them both up in a messy group hug. “Oh, come here, you - I can’t believe this is  _ finally  _ happening!”

“Honestly, congratulations again,” Catherine smiled, lingering by the table and watching them fondly. “We’re all so excited for you!”

“Thank you, Mum,” Henry beamed back at her. “I can’t remember Philip getting such a welcoming committee after he proposed to Martha…?”

“Oh, please, that was more of a business transaction than a family matter,” Bea rolled her eyes, stepping back to regard them fondly. “The only reason he told us at all was to brag, and you know it!”

“Now, now, Bea,” Catherine warned her, though her tone was mild. “Play nice. And Hen,” she said, catching her son’s eyes. “Just so you know, Pip is running around the Palace somewhere. He’ll pop in sooner or later, I’m sure.”

Henry’s lip twitched. Alex refrained from making a face. He wondered what Philip was at Kensington for. Probably to hedge plans with the Queen to make their lives difficult. 

“But for now,” Catherine said, picking up glasses to hand them out, and Alex and Henry stepped up to receive theirs, “I think a toast is in order.” She regarded them fondly and then her eyes found Alex’s before she raised her glass. “To Alex, for officially becoming part of the family,” she announced warmly, and Alex couldn’t help but smile sheepishly. “I know we’re not always the easiest bunch, but if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to come to any of us. We’ve got your back.”

“Hear, hear,” Bea cheered. 

“I’m sure, in the next couple of weeks, you’ll have to endure countless of toasts to congratulate you on your engagement and wishing you well for your marriage,” Catherine smiled. “So I’m going to save my breath and leave that for another time. For now, let’s just celebrate the fact that this family has grown another member.”

Henry’s smile was sweet and tender as he raised his glass and announced: “To family.”

“To family,” the rest of them chimed in, and they drank. The beverage tasted rich an exquisite on Alex’s tongue. 

“It’s going to be so much fun, having you two here,” Bea sighed happily. “Finally, I’ll have someone to hang out with on all those boring events we’re doomed to show our faces at. There’s only so much chatter about little Jamie that I can endure from Martha.”

Soon after Henry had moved to New York, Martha had announced her pregnancy. Alex still thought Philip had constructed this to turn the attention back to himself and his clean royal image and away from his gay brother shacking it up with the First Son of the United States. Be that as it may, though, the youngest heir to the throne, James Albert Philip Arthur Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor (Alex felt this was child abuse, but no one had listened to his complains), was now three years old, and the darling of the royal family. 

And officially, the only topic Martha knew these days.

“Well, I can promise you we won’t start talking about children any time soon,” Alex smirked. “You won’t have to discuss tutors with us.”

“Thank God,” she groaned. 

They all turned around when the door opened to reveal none other than Philip himself, accompanied by a man in his fifties in a pristine suit who was carrying himself with impeccable posture. He was clearly working for the Crown. 

Alex wondered, vaguely, if they had summoned Philip with all their talk, like an evil spirit.

“Henry, Alex,” Philip said pleasantly, smiling as he approached them. “Welcome back! Congratulations again! I was so happy to hear the news!”

“Thank you, Philip,” Henry nodded.

“I hope you find the Cottage to your satisfaction,” Philip continued, indicating the interior of the house with a dismissive wave. “I know it’s not much, but it’s the best we could do, under the circumstances - after all, it’s not entirely common for a Prince to live with his suitor  _ before _ the wedding. But don’t let it be said we don’t move with the times! You can always choose to live somewhere else once you’ve tied the knot, as they say.”

Alex bit his lip, trying hard to reign in his amusement. If this were Broadway, Philip would have already written them an entire number to enunciate how very  _ relaxed _ and  _ modern _ he had become. Maybe Alex should call up Lin-Manuel Miranda. 

“It’s quite lovely,” Henry answered, and Alex was glad he was carrying the conversation because he had never quite figured out how to talk to Philip while remaining polite. “I don’t think the two of us require that much space.”

“I’m sure that will change, once you start thinking about children,” Philip returned, and  _ there _ it was. It hadn’t even taken him two minutes. “Jamie seems to take up the whole house by himself some days.”

“Is that so?” Henry smiled. “Well, we’re not quite there yet.”

“Right, right, of course, there’s the wedding to get through first,” Philip nodded. “You’ll have enough on your plates with that. Speaking of it -” he turned to Alex now, making him stiffen just so, “Alex, since you’re now officially becoming part of the royal family, the Queen decided that it would be good if you had some guidance. That’s why I brought Bruno along.” He gestured to the man next to him, who stepped out of his shadow and bowed, though Alex suspected it was more for the sake of everyone else, not for his. “Bruno has worked for the Crown for more than 35 years, and he knows each protocol and tradition down to the dot. He will be able to answer any question you might have.”

Alex glanced at Henry for a moment, noting that his jaw had tensed. Right. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Bruno,” Alex smiled, holding out a hand for the man to shake. 

“Mr Claremont-Diaz,” he nodded. 

“Philip, is this really necessary?” Henry asked tightly. “I’m sure Bruno has much better things to do than babysit Alex. Maybe someone else would be more suitable to -”

“The Queen insisted, Henry,” Philip interrupted him. “And we all know Bruno is the most experienced.”

Henry looked like that’s what he’d been afraid of. His eyes were narrowed as he glowered at his brother. 

“If I may, Your Royal Highness?” Bruno spoke up, drawing Henry’s attention to him. “We have scheduled your first public appearance together for tomorrow. The press is invited to the gardens of Kensington for a photo op, and then Prince Philip, the Duchess of Cambridge as well as Princess Beatrice will join you for a brief Q&A. It’s set to start at 1 PM and is not meant to last more than an hour. But if you have no objections, I’d like to meet up with Mr Claremont-Diaz in the morning to brief him for the event.”

“‘Brief’ me?” Alex repeated, frowning. “I have been appearing in public for ten years now. Do I really need briefing?”

“The Queen believes that you do,” Bruno nodded, and really, Alex shouldn’t be surprised, should he? 

“Fine, if it’s really necessary,” Alex shrugged. 

“It is, I’m afraid,” Bruno insisted. “Please meet me in my office at the main building at 8 o’clock sharp. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

Alex exchanged a look with Henry, who looked like he’d just swallowed something very sour. 

“Good, now that that’s settled,” Philip smiled, “there’s another point we need to discuss. Alex, usually, the process of planning the wedding is the responsibility of the bride -”

“Excuse me,” Alex interrupted him, unable to help himself. “Are you suggesting I’m the bride in this scenario?”

Philip held in, his eyes widening. “I - no!” he stumbled. “I mean, of course -  _ obviously,  _ there’s no bride available, which means we have to decide -” 

He looked to Bruno for help, who took pity on him and started speaking. 

“What His Royal Highness is trying to say is that we need to settle now on who of you will be our contact person on all matters concerning the planning of this wedding. Experience has shown us that it’s easier if one person takes the procedure over and consults with the official wedding planner, even if the decisions are made between the two of you.” He paused for a beat, then he continued: “We would  _ suggest _ for Mr Claremont-Diaz to take this upon himself, out of practicality - we will, of course, increase his public appearances as he continues to live here, but for now, he is less booked than Prince Henry. It is, though, your decision, in the end.”

Alex and Henry looked at each other. Alex raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You don’t need to do it,” Henry said quickly. “No one is expecting -”

“I don’t have a problem with it, exactly,” Alex shrugged. “I mean, at least I’ll have something to do. You know I don’t deal well with boredom.”

Henry’s face softened at that. “That’s true,” he nodded. 

“Might as well,” Alex chuckled. “I’d be a horrible trophy wife, sitting at home, mooning and waiting for you to return.”

Henry laughed, and Alex could see the wheels in Philip’s head turning, wondering if his joke was a dig against him. 

“Very well,” Bruno nodded briskly. “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other, then, Mr Claremont-Diaz. I’ll be handing you some options to look at tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Alex said, trying to smile. “That sounds great.” It actually sounded like hell warmed over, but apparently, this was what he had signed up for. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Bruno said. “I hope you’ll enjoy your first night at your new home, Your Royal Highness. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr Claremont-Diaz.”

With another bow, he retreated, closing the door softly behind him. That left Philip in the round of his family. He lingered for a few moments, rather awkwardly, enquiring about Paris, before announcing: “Well, I’d better go, Martha will most probably be back from her walk with Jamie by now. I will tell her you said ‘Hello’.”

“Please do,” Catherine said, far more kindly than Philip deserved, in Alex’s opinion. Then again, he was her son, too.

After Philip had left, Alex sighed deeply, pouring himself another glass of champagne and downing it in one go.

“I don’t like this,” Henry muttered. “Why Bruno?”

“Don’t panic, dear,” Catherine soothed. “It’s going to be fine.”

Henry looked at her pointedly, and she fell silent.

“Well, you’re officially in the depth of it now, Alex,” Bea smiled, toasting him with her orange juice. “They’ll prod you with protocol until you’re gagging from the stick they’re trying to shove up your -”

“Beatrice!” Catherine warned.

“What?” she asked innocently. “It’s true.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Catherine repeated pointedly, this time directed at Alex. “No need to worry.”

Alex wasn’t sure whether he believed her, but he was sure her intentions were the best. 

***

“Well,” Alex sighed as he spread out in their luxurious bed, waiting for Henry to finish up in the en-suite, “I have to say, it’s definitely an upgrade, compared to your room.”

“You always hated my room,” Henry accused, and Alex could hear the smile in his voice. 

“It just felt so generic,” Alex pouted. “At least this house has got potential. With a bit of work, it feels like we can make it our own. Or will I be thrown into the Tower if I change anything?”

“We can redecorate,” Henry nodded, stepping into the room, only in T-shirt and boxer briefs. Alex felt warm all over watching him. “Within reason, though. Everything we throw out goes back to the Palace, and we’ll probably need to confer with Bruno before we make any too permanent changes, lest we accidentally knock in an ancient wall or something.”

“Right,” Alex said, chewing on his lips. Henry was plugging in his phone and muting it, and he was watching the swift movements of his fingers intently. “So,” he muttered. “Bruno?”

Henry’s lips twisted into an expression of displeasure. 

“I really don’t like it,” Henry shook his head. “Out of all the people they could have sicced on you, Bruno is the one who’s the most...  _ traditional.  _ I don’t think he’ll be very receptive to any of your plights.”

“That’s inconvenient,” Alex allowed, “but you know I can take care of myself. I’ve fought bigoted, Republican bastards for all my life. How is this any different?”

“None of them were connected to royalty,” Henry sighed, finally slipping under the covers with Alex, sidling up against him. “I know you can take care of yourself, Alex, but - this isn’t your field of expertise, and I’m afraid that they’ll steamroll you the moment you let down your guard.”

“I just won’t, then,” Alex shrugged, smiling winningly and sneaking his hand across Henry’s stomach, finding the hem of his shirt and slipping his fingers beneath it to feel warm skin. Henry sighed, closing his eyes. “Trust me,” Alex cooed, leaning in to catch Henry’s lips with his. 

Henry melted into the kiss, the tension of the day flowing out of him in a rush, and his hands came up to reach for Alex immediately - one to card through his messy curls, the other grasping on his shoulder blade. 

When Alex broke the kiss, he dragged his lips up Henry’s cheekbone until he reached his ear. His tongue came out to lick the curve of it for a moment, making Henry’s breath shudder. Then, he whispered: “It’s our first night in our new home, baby. What do you want?”

Henry gulped, and after a moment of contemplation, his hand moved from his shoulder to Alex’s bum, squeezing. 

“I want you like this,” he breathed, his voice deep and husky, “On top of me.”

“That can be arranged,” Alex smiled, continuing to suck a kiss into the skin of Henry’s throat. 

The wonderful thing about being in a long-term relationship, Alex had found, was the way Henry and he had learned each other inside out; after four years, they knew exactly how to touch each other, how to take the other person apart, their quirks and kinks and tells, and if anyone ever said that this made things boring, they were, in Alex’s humble opinion, a filthy  _ liar.  _ Because how could he ever get bored of Henry’s fingers preparing him with such trained precision; of how Henry knew exactly which angle to thrust in so he’d hit his prostate dead-on, making Alex teeter close to the edge before they had even started - but never too close, because Henry could read him like a book, knew when to slow down, when it was too much, knew when to distract Alex with kisses and innocent, gentle touches to take off the edge. 

When Alex, at last, sank down onto Henry’s cock, the familiarity of it was part of the kick. The feel of Henry, his scent, the sight of him - all of it pushed his buttons in a way nothing else ever head, and he moved with eased practice, quickly sliding into a rhythm, eyes locked to Henry’s. Henry was bucking into him, careful not to upend Alex above him, but they had this down to a fine art by now, so there wasn’t any real danger. 

Alex still remembered the first time they had done it this way - it had taken an unreasonable amount of nerve to ask for it; he’d been afraid that it would mess up something in the way Henry perceived their relationship if he told him that he yearned to change up their roles every once in a while. He needn’t have worried, though - Henry had been thrilled, and he’d taken Alex apart with tender care, all gentleness and reassurance. 

It had been new and exciting, strange and scary and now, years later, Alex wondered how he had ever gone without it. Being with Henry like this felt as natural as breathing. 

Henry thrust up into him while simultaneously pressing his hips down, making his cock press in deep against his prostate, and Alex keened. His fingers fisted the soft sheets at their sides. 

“I’m close,” Henry breathed after a while, his face turning to press a wet kiss against his hand. “Shall I slow down, or -”

“No, go ahead,” Alex shook his head. “We can take care of me after.”

Henry nodded, closing his eyes and picking up speed. Alex watched him, marvelling at the sight of him - all debauched and desperate, and all  _ his.  _

He could tell the exact moment when Henry started tumbling over the edge - his muscles tensing, his fingers tightening on his hips, and his movements stuttering. He buried himself deep within Alex, and he could  _ feel  _ his climax, and Alex closed his eyes and moaned because that part never got old. 

He leaned in to kiss Henry, messy and out of breath, stroking his face until the other came down from his high. Then, blue eyes blinked up at him, still a bit cloudy but determined. 

“Move up,” he demanded, his voice scratchy.

Alex raised his eyebrows but did as asked, lifting himself off Henry’s hips - a bit regretful when he felt him sliding out of him - and up his body until he was carefully straddling his torso. Henry’s hands found his hips and pulled him closer, and then, he leaned in, lips closing around Alex’s straining cock. 

Alex moaned, closing his eyes. 

This was something Henry had down to a fine art, too, and Alex was truly grateful for it. 

Once Henry had a rhythm going, he reached around Alex’s body with his right hand, finding his still stretched and well-lubricated hole, slipping in two fingers without much preamble and locating his prostate. Alex reached out to brace himself against the headboard, the combination of Henry fingering him and his mouth on his cock making him weak in the knees. 

It didn’t take long after - Alex had already been fairly close and soon, the heat pooled in his belly and his hips stuttered as he came into Henry’s mouth, shuddering and cursing out endearments and profanities. 

Henry eased off him slowly, drawing gentle circles onto Alex’s hips with his fingers, and Alex lifted himself off Henry with his last strength and flopped down next to him with a groan, stretching out. 

“Right,” he breathed. “I hope that scandalised your forebears satisfactorily.” 

Henry barked out a laugh, throwing his arm across his eyes, and Alex grinned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! :) If you'd like to look me up on twitter, you can find me under @TheHuffleLife.


	3. The First Public Appearance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! Here I am, back with the third chapter. This one is a bit (or a lot) more stressful than the last. The plot is plotting and conflicts are conflicting. I hope you'll enjoy it just as much! Happy reading :)

The next morning, Alex journeyed over to the main building to find Bruno’s office. He got lost on the way and had to ask an expressionless Royal Guard for advice - honestly, these ancient palaces were a goddamn  _ maze -  _ but at last, he found the little office, tucked away in a corner of the east-wing.

He knocked and was promptly called inside, clearly already awaited by the stern man. 

“You’re late,” Bruno remarked.

Alex checked his watch. “By three minutes,” he frowned. “I got lost.”

“Please remember that here at the Palace, we value punctuality,” he replied, clearly undeterred by Alex’s excuse. 

Alex wondered if he was German. The Crown traditionally worked with Germans, right? And obsessing over punctuality to this extend was something Alex had only experienced in Germans - though maybe, he was being an ass and he was stereotyping. 

“As I said yesterday, we have a lot of ground to cover,” Bruno said, stepping out from his desk to approach him. 

“This is not my first public appearance alongside Henry,” Alex noted tiredly. “I have been coached.”

“You haven’t been his intended at that point,” Bruno pointed out. “The standards for your behaviour have changed drastically with your engagement. Now that you’re to be a member of the Royal Family, you’re to act accordingly.”

“Right,” Alex said, rather wary now. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

Bruno pursed his lips, considering. Then, he gestured to the side, where a suit had been hung out, complete with shirt, tie and shoes. Alex stared as Bruno continued: “Let’s start simple: This is your approved outfit your today.”

“I’m not allowed to chose my own clothes?” Alex cut in, voice a little sharp now.

“I’m afraid not,” Bruno answered politely. “At least for the moment, we’d like to monitor your choices. You’re not secure in the Royal Dress Code yet. As time passes and you become more familiar with what’s regarded appropriate, you will be given more freedom.”

Alex gaped and looked at the suit again: It was royal blue, because the Crown was nothing if not predictable, and clean cut. The shirt was simple and white. The tie was a slightly darker shade of blue - midnight, probably - and without pattern. The shoes were simple black leather. 

It was so boring it made Alex’s skin curl.

“That’s not me,” he protested. “And people  _ know _ that! I’ve been in the public eye since my teens! If I turn up like this -”

“It’s what the British public expects of you,” Bruno interrupted him sternly. “You’re no longer the First Son of the United States, Mr Claremont-Diaz. You’re the future husband of the Prince of Wales.”

“I’m both!” Alex protested.

“Not in your function as a member of the Royal Family,” Bruno shook his head. “I know that His Royal Highness has… somewhat sheltered you from the expectations that come with such a relationship, up to this point, but we need you to be absolutely clear on this. You will be a member of the Royal Family first and foremost from now on, with all that entails. Everything else comes second.”

Alex just stared, quite speechless. Bruno used his momentary shock to move on to the next topic. 

“Now, another matter is your conduct throughout public appearances. Until now, the Crown hasn’t meddled - after all, there was no telling whether your relationship would last - but now that you’re about to marry, it is high time that you learned how to properly conduct yourself as a member of the Royal family.” He built himself up in front of Alex, who tensed noticeably, on the defensive before the first word had even left Bruno’s mouth. “First, you and Henry have been known to - touch, in a way that the Crown doesn’t condone for members of the Royal Family to do in public.”

“Excuse me?” Alex asked, an edge to his voice.

“There are rules,” Bruno pressed on, “as to when and where it is appropriate for you to touch each other. At formal events, for example, Public Displays of Affection are discouraged, unless they serve a purpose. In any case, the extent of the display should be appropriate. Hands should never wander below the waistline. Kisses should stay chaste and few. Other safe places you may touch -”

“Oh my God, stop,” Alex interrupted, unable to take any more. “You’re not seriously going to give me a protocol for when and where I am allowed to kiss my  _ fiancé?! _ This is 2024, not the middle ages!”

“This is also not High School Prom, Mr Claremont-Diaz,” Bruno shot back. “If you’re on public appearances with His Royal Highness, you’re on the job, as they say. There are rules you have to follow. Now, do you think you can manage to not interrupt while I finish explaining?”

Alex glared, his lips pressed tight as Bruno listed off the places Alex and Henry could safely and moderately touch in public (arm, shoulder, back, occasionally hand) and went into detail regarding the situations in which kisses would be encouraged. By the end of his lecture, Alex was fuming. 

“Do you have any questions?” Bruno asked.

“None you would like to hear,” Alex ground out.

“Very well,” Bruno sighed. “Then let’s move on to the important things you need to know for the Q&A. You will be attending with various members of the Royal Family, not only your intended. That means I have to make you aware of the guidelines that involve interactions between members of the Royal Family, even if you, technically, are not yet one.”

“So I’m royal enough to have to stick to your rules, but not enough to be counted as one yet,” Alex smiled bitterly. Bruno ignored him. 

“You will step out in order of succession to the throne, which means Prince Philip and the Duchess of Cambridge will be first, followed by Princess Beatrice. Only then Prince Henry will follow, with you at the back.” He hesitated for a moment, before continuing: “This situation is a delicate one. You are not yet at the same level of anyone else on that stage, and you must never conduct yourself as if you thought you were. On the other hand, the Crown wishes to promote an image of unity between the siblings, and it would be unwise to feed the rumours that there was any stiffness between you and Prince Philip. We will have to find a middle way.”

“I didn’t understand a word of what you just said,” Alex shot back bluntly. “Apart from the Queen wanting to sell us off as a British version of the White House Trio, that is.”

“Well,” Bruno said slowly, “you are aware that, technically, your status is much lower than anyone else’s in the Royal Family, of course. So naturally, the protocol would still apply to you. You’d have to bow to Prince Philip, the Duchess and the Princess, and they’d have to address you first, and -”

“You have to be fucking kidding me?!” Alex demanded.

“Language,” Bruno scolded. “I know you’re prone to profanities, but as a member of the Royal Family -”

“Oh my God,” Alex said, running a hand through his hair. 

“As I was saying,” Bruno picked up, as if there had been no interruption at all. “We cannot keep most of these customs in place while still keeping up appearances - not to mention that Prince Henry explicitly demanded you’re not to bow to anyone in the family. Still, you should keep in mind that these people are not on your level. Do never interrupt them. Let them speak to you, rather than the other way around. Keep a passive role throughout the Q&A and let them dominate.”

Alex’s hands were visibly shaking now. He balled them into a fist to hide it. He wanted to yell at Bruno that the whole monarchy was a fucking farce and that none of them, least of all fucking  _ Philip _ , was in any way better than him. But he reigned himself in, like the good royal puppet he was to become.

“Anything else?” he ground out.

“Only one more thing,” Bruno agreed. “We know that, due to your family circumstances, you tend to be very… political in your statements. That has to stop.”

“Excuse me?” Alex hissed.

“Royals can, under no circumstances, be political,” Bruno reminded him.

“I’m the son of the President of the United States,” Alex snapped, his voice rising.

“You’re now a member of the Royal Family, first and foremost.”

“I plan to be a politician myself, in the future!” Alex called. “I  _ am _ political, and I’ll always be!”

“Then you’re marrying the wrong man,” Bruno replied, simple and unwavering. “You have to decide what it is you really want, Mr Claremont-Diaz. If you want to become a politician so very much, it’s my advice to not go through with this wedding.”

Alex just looked at him. Blood was rushing in his ears. He knew he was trembling from head to toe, but there were no words that he could fling at Bruno, no words at all. 

“Don’t forget your suit,” Bruno said, a clear dismissal. “We expect you and His Royal Highness at 10:30 sharp. No tardiness.”

Alex stood there for a moment, rooted to the spot. Then, he jerkily went to collect the suit and fled through the door, slamming it behind himself. 

***

Henry was launching on the sofa as Alex returned, leafing through a folder. 

“Alex,” he smiled, looking up. “They sent over some stuff to look at for the wedding while you were gone, and -”

He held in when he saw Alex’s expression, face falling. Alex threw the suit cover onto the nearest side table, knocking over the decorative knick-knack that had been placed upon it. He proceeded to storm on towards the kitchen to get himself something to drink. 

That’s where Henry found him, drinking water straight from the bottle. 

“What did they say to you?” Henry asked with a deep sigh. 

“That I’m apparently marrying the wrong man,” Alex ground out.

“What?” Henry demanded, his voice flat. 

Alex took another sip from the bottle. He only turned when Henry’s hand came up to his shoulder. Henry’s face was serious now, and Alex could see apprehension as well as anger boiling underneath the calm facade. 

“Tell me what happened,” Henry insisted quietly. 

“He made it sound like I need to sell my fucking soul to become your husband,” Alex snapped. “You should have heard him! I’ll be a member of the Royal Family first. I won’t be the son of the President anymore. I won’t be a politician. I probably won't be a human being, as far as they’re concerned!”

“Okay, stop,” Henry interrupted him, bringing his left hand up to his other shoulder, effectively caging him with his gaze. “They don’t have a say in who you are, Alex. I told you, I’m not going to let that happen.”

“That’s not what  _ Bruno _ said!” Alex called.

“Bruno isn’t God,” Henry rolled his eyes. “It’s not up to him to make these decisions. He _works_ for my family. He doesn’t have any power over me, or over you, for that matter. Please remember that. My grandmother might have given him the authorisation to educate or, most probably, intimidate you, but that doesn’t translate to any actual influence. We’re still our own people, Alex.”

“He’s parroting the will of the Queen, though,” Alex pointed out. “So it  _ does _ matter. And he said I can’t be a politician. And if I can’t -”

“Alex, he doesn’t get to decide that,” Henry repeated. “Yes, my grandmother has a say, but even if she tries to pull anything, there are still measures for us to take. We have Mum on our side, and there is no saying how much longer my grandmother will be on the throne, anyway. So please, don’t let them scare you.”

Alex took a shaky breath. Henry stepped closer to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“I knew this would happen,” he muttered. “Bruno is horrible like that. I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t think he’d get to me like this,” Alex admitted. “But he pushed all my buttons.” 

“I understand,” Henry nodded, wrapping his arms around Alex. Alex leaned into him, sagging a little. “Really, I’ve been through it. Tell me, what else did he say?”

“Lots of nonsense about remembering my place through the Q&A, letting y’all speak and keeping quiet like the good commoner I am -”

“Bloody hell, I want to murder him,” Henry muttered into his hair.

“Oh, and there was this thing about PDA,” Alex remembered. 

Henry laughed at that. “Oh, that came right from Grandma’s mouth, I bet,” he shook his head. “The lecture’s she’s given me about that every time I’ve come home -”

“It’s not like we’re making out in public all the time!” Alex called, affronted. “What’s that about?!”

“It’s about the fact that we’re gay,” Henry replied, his voice dark now. “She’s a prude under any circumstances, but the fact that every time we’re photographed kissing or holding hands, it’s two blokes kissing and holding hands - it’s too much for her delicate sensibilities.”

“Of course,” Alex groaned, burying his face into his shoulder. “That should have occurred to me sooner.”

“To be fair, the protocol for PDA does exist,” Henry sighed. “It’s just that usually, for Senior Members of the Royal Family - which you are going to be, once you marry me - the protocol are mere guidelines, to be laid out at personal discretion. That’s true for most of it, by the way, not just the PDA section. So while it makes sense for you to know these things, it should have been taught to you differently. Not like a rule book, that’s for sure.”

“Is it too late to request a new teacher?” Alex asked weakly. 

“If I could help you with that, I’d already have done it,” Henry said, his voice sour. “But if anything he says upsets you, be sure to come to me after. I’ll translate. Because you can be sure nothing is as final as he makes it seem.”

“Look at you,” Alex smiled, despite himself. “When I met you, you were all resigned and hopeless about your position within the Royal Family, and now, you’re showing me how to be a rebel consort.”

Henry chuckled, shaking his head. “Someone showed me that no rules are set into stone,” he grinned, rather sheepishly.

“Must be one hell of a guy,” Alex grinned.

“The love of my life,” Henry agreed, disarmingly honest. Alex couldn’t help but lean in to kiss him. Henry hummed into the kiss. “So,” he whispered against his lips, “anything else we need to fix?”

“My boring outfit?” Alex muttered, his voice a bit whiny now. 

Henry laughed. “Let me see,” he said, disentangling himself from Alex to return to the living room and find Alex discarded suit cover. Alex sighed, trotting after him unenthusiastically.

Henry was already unpacking his outfit by the time Alex joined him, humming thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, I see why you’re upset,” he nodded. “It’s not you.”

“That’s what I said!” Alex called. 

“We can fix it,” Henry shrugged. He pulled out the tie and dropped the whole thing onto the sofa before grinning at Alex. “Follow me.”

Intrigued, Alex trailed after Henry all the way to their bedroom, where the other man opened the cupboard and regarded the selection. Finally, he drew out two ties - one was red with blue and tiny white stripes, reminiscent of the American flag; the other was plaid, dark red and dark blue. “Choose one,” Henry said.

Alex pointed to the one with the stripes. Henry nodded, putting the other one away again, together with the original one from Bruno. He opened another drawer and drew out a couple more items - Alex laughed when he recognised the cuff links Henry had gifted him almost two years ago, in the design of the US and UK flags. He rounded it off by adding a pocket square, red to match the tie. 

“There you go,” Henry grinned. “Now it looks more like an Alex Claremont-Diaz outfit, without being too outside the royal protocol.”

“I’m sure Bruno would have something to say about the cuff links,” Alex smirked. 

“They’re discreet,” Henry shrugged. “And it’s good to put him in his place. To remind him that you’ll always be the First Son, as well, or former First Son eventually. You don’t have to choose.”

Alex beamed at him. “I love you so much,” he told him earnestly. 

“I love you, too,” Henry smiled gently. “I’ve got your back, sweetheart.”

And with that knowledge, Bruno suddenly felt like nothing more than a very obnoxious toad trying to puff himself up to seem more important than he actually was. And Alex decided he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

Henry and Alex would make a life for themselves, and they would make it  _ their  _ life. They had gotten their will years back, when everyone had thought it impossible, and now they were here, with the first Prince to marry a man, and they would not let anyone dictate what they could and couldn’t do. 

***

Bruno’s face, when he saw Alex’s outfit later (at 10:30  _ sharp _ , for god’s sake), was priceless. The vein on his temple was pounding so hard that he was sure it was going to burst, and his lips were so thin that they seemed to disappear entirely. 

He did not get to voice his complaints, though, for Henry just looked at him and asked, in a voice of disarming politeness: “Anything wrong, Bruno?”

Bruno met his eyes, visibly collecting himself. 

“Not at all, Your Royal Highness,” he said.

And at that moment, all Alex could think was how much he loved Henry. Because sure, he could fight his own battles, and he would have liked to shout Bruno down, but there was such satisfaction in watching the man deflate beneath Henry’s calm authority. 

They were drawn in by stylists to be fussed over, and after their hair was adjusted and make-up applied, Bruno reappeared, this time notably more collected. 

"So, the procedure will be as following," he announced, "you will walk out, down the pathway and along the edge of the fountain. The press will be placed on the other side. You can answer a couple of chosen questions, but please keep in mind that the Q&A is coming up after. This is merely meant as an opportunity for the press to catch a glimpse of your "engaged bliss", so to speak."

"So, in other words, show it off," Alex translated. 

"In moderation, Mr Claremont-Diaz," Bruno cautioned. "We talked about this."

Alex rolled his eyes. He had a feeling he'd never understand the Crown. They wanted to play them to their advantage, but they also wanted to keep them under a tight lid. They were to appear happy in public but not to offend homophobic bastards. Alex was too Generation Z for this. 

As Henry had predicted, Bruno's words didn't really end up mattering all that much, though, because as it was time for the two of them to step out, Henry took his hand without any preamble, enlacing their fingers. Alex rose his eyebrows at him. 

"Isn't this  _ too much PDA _ already?" he mocked.

"I honestly don't give a fuck," Henry smirked. 

"Language, Your Royal Highness," Alex teased. 

Henry rolled his eyes and stepped forward, pulling Alex along. He followed without resistance.

Cameras were snapping pictures of them as soon as they turned around the corner, coming into view. The number of reporters was remarkable, though not overwhelming - Alex guessed that Clarence House had preapproved which publications would be invited. Alex tried not to focus on them too much; instead, he kept his attention on Henry and a smile plastered on his face. 

He was good at this, he reminded himself. No matter what Bruno and the Queen seemed to think.

At last, they came to a stop, Alex taking his lead from Henry, and they turned to face the reporters, who immediately started to shout out their congratulations to them. 

"How did you propose?" Someone shouted, predictably. 

"In a little café in Paris," Henry answered, keeping it at that. Alex was grateful. The world already knew enough about their relationship. 

"Was it romantic?" Another reporter asked, this time directed at Alex. 

"Very," he smiled, looking up at Henry fondly. "Everything he does is romantic."

"Show us the ring!" Someone demanded, and Alex did, holding up his hand so they could snatch photos.

It was a lot more posing after that, the press keen on getting different angles, of having them look at each other, etc etc.. Alex didn't much mind this part, to be honest, though Henry was a bit tense, and it caused Alex to laugh once or twice, breaking Henry's tension in the progress. 

Eventually, there was a signal from someone who clearly belonged to Clarence House, and Henry addressed the reporters, asking them to move on to the Q&A and promising that they'd meet them there shortly. And then, he took Alex's hand once more and they were walking up the stairs and away from the press, back to where they had come from. 

Once they were out of sight, Henry visibly sagged, making Alex laugh. "Part One is done," he muttered. 

"It wasn't that bad," Alex shrugged. "I'm dreading the Q&A much more. God beware I hurt Philip's delicate sensibilities or something."

"I told you, don't worry about that," Henry rolled his eyes. "You're family now and that's how they want us to appear. It won't do for you to hide. Everyone will know immediately that something's wrong."

"Your words in Bruno's ears," he muttered, but before Henry could reply, Alex seemed to have summoned the devil by mentioning his unholy name. 

"Thank you, Your Royal Highness, Mr Claremont-Diaz," he said, gesturing for them to move along and into a waiting car. Because God forbid that they walk the short way to the Q&A, like common folk.

Rows of chairs had been set out for the reporters in a different corner of the gardens, in front of a moderately-sized staged. When Alex and Henry arrived, still a good distance away and hidden behind the walls of the west-wing, the press was filing into their seats.

Bea was already waiting for them, donning a gorgeous blue dress. 

"Hey, we match," she grinned at Alex in greeting, and he couldn't help but laugh, relieved beyond words to see a friendly face. "You two looked gorgeous out there, by the way! I can totally see why the world buys the whole gay fairy tale angle!"

"They're already up?" Alex asked in surprise, and Bea nodded, slipping out her phone to show them a tweet from  _ BBC.  _ And indeed, Henry and Alex were smiling back from the screen, headed with the capture:  _ 'Everything he does is romantic!' _

"Well, they're certainly fast," Alex acknowledged.

"You have no idea," Henry rolled his eyes. "Put 'Royalty' on it and everything happens twice as quickly."

"You're going to learn," Bea smiled.

"So," Alex asked, turning to her with raised eyebrows. "Any tips before I'm thrown out to the wolves?"

"Forget whatever  _ Bruno _ told you," she said, rather emphatically. "Go out there, be your charming self and have fun!"

"I can do that," Alex smirked. 

"Good," Bea nodded, nudging him, "because there comes our personal crabber."

They looked over to see Philip and Martha approaching them, with Bruno in tow. They looked so conventionally royal it almost hurt - Martha in her light-blue dress, matching coat and ornate hat, Philip in a dark-blue suit, patternless tie with his honest to God military honours pinned to his chest. 

"Good day to you," Philip said pleasantly. "I trust the photo-op went well?"

Alex noticed how Philip not-so-discreetly gave him a once-over and he stood a bit straighter in defiance. 

"Perfectly," Henry answered. "Not that there was anything to worry about. Alex has been doing PR for about 10 years now, I keep telling you."

"Well, it's still sometimes better to make sure, isn't it?" Philip said, nonchalantly. "After all, you knocked the cake over at our wedding."

He said it jokingly, but Alex could see Martha's eyes darkening at the mention. He knew she had never forgiven them for that.

"And thanks to that, you're now indirect matchmakers," Bea cut in, a sly smile on her face. "Isn't it funny how the world works out?"

"Yes," Martha agreed, her voice strained. "Funny."

"I think it's time to go up," Bruno announced, and Alex wondered if that was part of his duties, too: Rescuing Philip and Martha from awkward situations. It would fall right in line with his task of tormenting Alex.

“Thank you, Bruno,” Philip nodded. He took Martha’s arm and lead then towards the stage. Bea rolled her eyes in their direction before following after them, making Alex grin. Henry smiled at him and offered him his arm as well.

“What?” Alex muttered as he hooked his own through it. “I’m not supposed to trail after you like the obedient commoner spouse I am?”

“Stop _thinking_ ,” Henry shook his head, and they followed after the others and towards the stage. 

Five armchairs had been set up in plain view for the reporters and as soon as they all stepped out to take their seats, the cameras started snapping away again. Alex was glad, in a way, that he was so used to the public attention - it allowed him to simply smile and wave, relatively unphased. He wondered how he would have dealt if he hadn’t been in the public eye since his teens. 

A host took over the word first, welcoming everyone, introducing them and explaining the procedure. Then, he called upon the first reporters to ask questions, and Alex braced himself for the crossfire. 

“Your Highness, when did you first hear about your brother’s engagement?” 

It was addressed to Philip, not to Bea, which was surely no coincidence, Alex thought. Philip, though, smiled winningly as he responded, without missing a beat: “Henry called home the same evening he proposed. Of course, we were all terribly thrilled for him. Alex has been a member of the family for a long time now.”

Alex kept a pleasant smile plastered to his face, even as the next reporter asked, quite predictably: “So there is no truth to the rumours that there’s been discord within the family due to your brother’s relationship with Mr Claremont-Diaz?”

“No truth at all,” Philip laughed. 

“The rumours are holding persistently. Palace insiders have stated that your relationship with your siblings and your future brother-in-law has been strained at best.”

“What utter nonsense,” Philip shook his head, and he caught Alex’s eyes, much to his horror. “We get along just fine, don’t we, Alex?”

“Perfectly,” Alex lied through his teeth, but he smiled his politician smile and he knew no one would be able to tell. 

“Mr Claremont-Diaz,” the next question was directed to him, and thankfully changed the focus away from Philip altogether. “How did your family react to the news?”

“Oh,” Alex chuckled, a genuine grin spreading over his face. “Well, they were all thrilled, naturally. I had about 200 unread messages in our White House Trio chat when I woke up the next morning - 196 were from June.” That got him a round of laughter, and it caused him to push on. “Mum threatened to schedule a Zoom session on How to Not Ruin My Own Royal Wedding. I’m pretty sure the PPT is sitting around on her desktop somewhere. She really wants to have some cake.” More laughter, and he could see Henry hiding his face in his hand for a moment, half embarrassment, half amusement. “And my Dad - well, there was a lot of yelling in Spanish, I’m not going to repeat all of that. Let’s just say he was very pleased.” 

“I honestly can’t wait for this wedding,” Bea grinned. “It’s going to be so much more lively than anything we’re used to.”

“What can I say?” Alex shrugged. “You should have brought some Americans into the family sooner.”

“I don’t think the monarchy could take two of you,” Henry chuckled, grinning at Alex fondly. “It would collapse in protest.”

Alex mock-gasped, and there was more laughter. Eventually, the next reporter was called upon. 

“What are your plans after your move to England, Mr Claremont-Diaz?”

Alex was about to open his mouth, but Philip was faster, answering before Alex even had a chance to. 

“Of course, he will be busy with wedding planning for the next year,” he said. “And we’ll slowly introduce him to more Royal Duties as time passes. Eventually, he will be ready to take over his own charity projects.”

“Do you have anything in mind yet, Mr Claremont-Diaz?” Someone asked. “Will you be collaborating with your fiancé’s organisation?”

Put on the spot like that, Alex only had a split-second to make the decision - he settled on: “That’s Henry’s baby, not mine. I’ll explore my own direction. I have a couple of ideas, but we will need to discuss those further.”

It was as diplomatic an answer as any, he figured, and Henry sent him a small smile, which probably meant he agreed. 

“Regarding the wedding,” the next question came in, “are there any news about the location yet? Will you be able to hold it at Westminster Abbey? The Archdeacon has been vague about whether or not the wedding would be allowed to take place, not only due to the fact that Prince Henry and Mr Claremont-Diaz are both men, but also because Mr Claremont-Diaz is catholic.”

Alex blinked, a bit stumped. This was the first he’d heard of this. They’d had four years to prepare for this eventuality, and this matter still wasn’t settled?!

“We’re still in discussions with the Anglican Church and the Archdeacon of Westminster,” Philip answered. “We hope the matter will be settled quickly and amicably.”

“Mr Claremont-Diaz, would you be willing to convert to Anglican faith if it was demanded of you?” someone else asked. 

Alex took a moment to find his voice. He was starting to get frustrated about how little he’d been told before being put out here. Like fuck was he going to promise anything when the Crown didn’t even have the courtesy to inform him before placing him into a public crossfire. 

“Well, as a child of America, I value my freedom to exercise my own religious beliefs,” Alex said slowly. “The thought that anyone might force me to change them so that I can marry the man I love doesn’t sit right with me, as you can probably imagine.”

“No one is going to pressure Alex into anything,” Henry injected smoothly. “If the Anglican Church has a problem with either of us the way we are, then we have to find a different location to marry. Simple as that.”

“Right,” the host cut in as the press began to murmur amongst themselves. “Last question! Yes, you!”

“Mr Claremont-Diaz,” the woman began, and from her accent, he could tell that she was American, “it’s no secret that, like your parents, you’ve always had quite a few political ambitions. Now that you agreed to marry into the Royal Family, does that mean you’re about to give up on becoming a politician?”

“What kind of question is that?” Philip sighed, sounding exasperated. Again, he’d cut in before Alex could answer, and it made his blood boil. “He’s here, isn’t he? That should be answer enough.”

Alex’s hand balled into a fist. Henry reached out to place his own hand above it. He barely heard it as the host thanked them for their cooperation and hastily wrapped up the event, too busy keeping his appearance as he boiled underneath the surface.

Only when they had left the stage and were safely out of sight and hearing distance did he round on Philip, grinding out: “What the fuck was that?!”

“I could ask you two the same question!” Philip snapped, his face red. “Your speech about Westminster - have you lost your minds?!”

“Well, maybe, it would have been nice to  _ mention _ something to us before any of this was dropped onto us like a bomb in the middle of a fucking press event!” Alex called.

“We were trying to settle things for your own good!” Philip huffed. “You didn’t need to concern yourselves with -”

“If they are demanding of me to convert, it’s my fucking business, and someone should have mentioned it!”

“Alex is right, Philip,” Henry injected, his voice dangerous. “We have a right to know what is going on. You can’t expect us to be the unproblematic poster couple when you won’t even tell us what’s happening in our own lives. And just for your information -” he added, glaring daggers at his brother, “I stand by what I said. No one is making Alex do  _ anything.  _ I personally couldn’t care less about Westminster Abbey if that’s what we need to do to get in.”

“Why do you always have to show such disregard for our family’s traditions?!” Philip yelled.

“What kind of tradition is this, even?!” Henry shouted right back. “The Anglican Church was founded so that Henry VIII could stop offing his wives! So excuse me if I prioritise the happiness of my fiancé over such traditions!”

Philip was staring at him, wide-eyed and red-faced. Martha had one hand on her husband’s elbow, clearly trying to keep him in check. 

“I see he’s got you completely wrapped around his little finger,” Philip seethed. “And, fair enough, I will give you that - he’s charming. I can see how he played the crowd out there. But he didn’t act like one of  _ us _ , and you know it.”

“Oh my God, Philip!” Bea snapped. “Stop bitching around just because he stole your spotlight!”

“We’re not entertainers, Bea, and you know that!” Philip called. “We’re not supposed to draw the attention like that - he’s too blunt, too aloof, too political -”

“Yeah, maybe that’s exactly what the monarchy needs,” Bea hissed. “We’ve got too many posh, stuffy gits like you already. Come on, you two - you don’t have to listen to this.”

She stepped in between Alex and Henry, hooking her arm through both of theirs and pulling them towards the waiting car. Only when they were safely behind closed doors did she let out a huge sigh, relaxing a bit. She turned to look at Alex.

“Okay, I’m so sorry about Philip,” she said. “He’s a moron. Please don’t let him get to you.”

“I can’t believe we’re still having this discussion, after  _ four years of relationship _ !” Henry raged. “He’s still acting as if Alex is turning my head and putting ideas into it! As if I’m not my own person! It’s driving me insane!”

“I’m sorry,” Alex sighed, shaking his head. “Maybe, if I’d been more reserved, then -”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ apologise!” Henry interrupted him, incensed. “This is  _ not _ on you, Alex, no matter what they say to you! You did nothing wrong!”

“Exactly,” Bea nodded, her face serene. “Stand your ground when they attack you, Alex. Don’t back down. You have a right to be here, just the way you are. Just because there’s a bunch of bigots here doesn’t mean  _ you  _ have to give in!”

“You’re right,” Alex sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest. 

The car came to a halt. Bea sighed. “That’s me,” she announced. She leaned in to press a kiss to each of their cheeks. “Hold on, and don’t beat yourselves up,” she advised. “You both did well today, and Mum and I are always on your side. That’s what matters.”

“Right,” Henry nodded, sending her a tired smile. “Thanks, Bea.”

She waved at them before getting out of the car. Henry sighed, sidling up to Alex as they started driving again. Alex let himself be pulled against Henry, closing his eyes as he inhaled Henry’s familiar scent and buried his face into his fiancé’s neck. 

“I’m sorry everything’s so complicated,” Henry muttered. “Sometimes, I wished I could be just an ordinary guy, so you wouldn’t have to deal with this mess.”

“It’s frustrating,” Alex admitted, sneaking his hand into Henry’s suit jacket and feeling his warmth, “but you’re worth it, and I’m resilient. So let them come at me, I guess.”

Henry hummed, and they fell into a comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s nearness on the short ride home to their cottage. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No offense to Anglican Church was meant in this chapter 🤞


	4. Wedding Planning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! Back with the new chapter, featuring a visit from across the Atlantic :D Hope you'll enjoy it!!

**FSOTUS STEALS SPOTLIGHT AT KENSINGTON PRESS EVENT**

**-**

**IS ALEX CAUSING A RIFT BETWEEN HENRY AND THE ROYAL FAMILY?**

**-**

**NO WEDDING AT WESTMINSTER ABBEY? ALEX CLAREMONT-DIAZ REFUSES TO CONVERT TO THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND!**

***

  
  


**FanGirl4Eva45** @booksareluv 3h

OMG THEY LOOK LIKE FAIRY TALE PRINCES IN THE PHOTOS 😍😍😍

|

**Brian CC** @bb2c 2h

I don't recall the princes in fairy tales marrying each other 🤮

|

**FanGirl4Eva45** @booksareluv 2h

Gonna report you, you homophobic asshole!! #HistoryHuh

**Nora Holleran FTW** @cul8alyg8tor 3h

Alex was so funny in the interview. Did you see Philip's face?! 🤣

|

**Mary Ann #HistoryHuh** @allcoloursoftherainbow23 2h

Philip is such a bore 😴 Time someone like Alex made the monarchy a bit interesting 

|

**CeeCee** @cc55568 1h

Beatrice kept it pretty interesting a couple of years back #PowderPrincess

**Sebastian Snape** @justshutup78 3h

Never thought they were going to let them marry. I thought the Queen would have Alex offed before it came to that. Guess he's lucky his mother is the president. 

|

**Peter** @peter6464 3h

There's still time, though. He'd better convert soon or he might choke on a scone or something. 

**Love Is Indominable** @HistoryWillRememberUs 2h

So proud to see Alex in those shots today 😭 He went to my high school, he was valedictorian for his year. And now he's marrying a Prince. I'm emotional. A real Texas kid. #HistoryHuh

**Kev** @lilshithead33 1h

Lmao first those Mexicans take over the White House and now it's the British Monarchy. Good luck, Britain! #CloseTheBorders

***

“Alex, will you please put down your phone,” Henry sighed, taking the seat next to him and grasping his wrist with gentle fingers, forcing his hand down and causing Alex to look at him instead of his screen. “You're driving yourself insane, love. It’s not healthy.”

Alex gulped, nodding as he allowed Henry to unclench his fingers from the device and take it from his hand. He put it onto the couch table and pulled Alex against him. 

Alex knew that following his own press coverage was a nasty habit, but he couldn’t help it. He came from a political family. He cared too much about what the public thought. 

Henry, though, carded his long, sure fingers through his hair in a soothing rhythm, and it soon had Alex relax into him, breathing in his scent and sinking into the warmth of his embrace. 

“We should try to sleep,” Henry suggested after a while, his voice soft. “It’s been a long day.”

“I don’t think I can,” Alex admitted with a sigh. “I’m too worked up.”

Henry hummed in understanding. “Do you want to look at some wedding stuff, then?” he proposed. 

Alex pulled back a little to glance up at him, smiling when he was met with Henry’s soft quirk of lips. “Sure,” he shrugged. “Might as well.”

Henry nodded, letting go of him just long enough to pull the folder Clarence House had sent over earlier that day into his lap. He scooted closer to Alex before flipping it open and wrapping his arm back around his shoulder to pull him in. Alex reached out to draw the folder half into his own lap, leafing through pages and pages of approved wedding outfits that had been compiled for them.

“My God,” Alex groaned. “How come there are hundreds of outfits here and they all look the  _ same?!” _

“The wonders of the monarchy,” Henry smiled. “Those are only suggestions, though. We can hire designers to get something made.”

“Thank fuck!”

“Actually,” Henry said, biting his lip. “I had a bit of an idea for my outfit. Can I show you something?” 

“Of course,” Alex nodded, perking up immediately. It was rare for Henry to come forward with a specific idea - years of having been beaten down by his grandmother still made him awfully complacent most of the time - so when he did, Alex knew that it was something close to his heart. 

Henry reached out for his tablet, unlocking it and looking through his folders. Then, he started a video and handed it to Alex. 

It was a video of his parents’ wedding, Alex soon realised. He was watching Arthur Fox walking down the aisle, surrounded by a couple of men that were of clearly royal descend, judging by outfit and posture. The only exception was the person on his right shoulder, a young man his age who smiled at him encouragingly when Arthur turned to glance at him furtively.

“Who’s that?” Alex asked, pointing.

“Dad’s best man,” Henry offered. “A fellow actor and his closest friend. Mum lost all contact after Dad's death, I’m afraid, but I remember having him around a lot when we were younger.” Henry touched the screen to halt the scene on a close-up of his father. “See the outfit?” he asked, and Alex nodded. “Princes usually wear their military uniform for their wedding, but I never served. I was wondering if I couldn’t have something designed after my father’s outfit? It would feel like he was there with me.”

Alex smiled, his chest tight as he took in the outfit. Arthur was wearing a black tails suit jacket combined with dark grey pinstripe trousers. His waistcoat was a light grey, his shirt simple white, his tie a dark blue. The cut was a little old-fashioned - the wedding had taken place in the 80s, after all - but Alex could see how the outfit could be modernised for their purposes, and he knew that Henry would look fantastic in it.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he said earnestly, finally turning to catch Henry’s eye. “I promise I’ll make it happen.”

Henry smiled at him. “I’m not sure they’ll let me,” Henry shrugged. “It’s not a royal outfit, strictly speaking. My father was marrying into the family, and -”

“I’m making it happen,” Alex interrupted him. “Leave it to me.”

Henry smiled. “Okay,” Henry relented. “Whatever you say.”

“Is there anything else you have in mind?” Alex asked. “Since we’re already on the topic, we might as well get it all out here now.”

“Well, I don’t want us to use one of the traditional family vows,” Henry frowned. “My parents used a slightly more modern one, but Philip went back and we’re not doing that. I want us to choose our own. I will not have you say anything with ‘obey’ in it, that much is for sure.”

“Oh God,” Alex moaned. “Right, Martha said something like that, didn’t she?”

“She did,” Henry made a face. “It took all I had not to cringe. I’m not having you say anything that puts us into unequal positions. I know it’s usually an issue of feminism, but I wouldn’t put it past my family to impose such a vow on you, considering your background.”

“Right,” Alex rolled his eyes. “Brown peasant boy and all. They’d want me to be submissive.”

“Well, too bad for them,” Henry countered, his tone icy. 

Alex smiled, leaning into his side a little more. “I want to see which vows your parents used,” he said. “Let’s watch!”

Henry smiled and started the video again. For a while, they just stared at the screen and Alex made comments - “Who are all these people?! Are they going to walk in front of me, too, when I walk in?! Wait, am I walking in second, too?! Damn, I really  _ am _ the bride in this scenario, ain’t I?! Does my Dad have to give me away?!” - until they reached the ceremony, and they just watched, paying attention to the details. The vows, Alex had to admit, were not bad at all - not applicable for them, seeing as they were both men, but one could tell that Catherine, as a scholar, had definitely broken with tradition. 

As the video came to an end, Henry pressed a kiss to the top of Alex’s head. 

“Are all royal wedding ceremonies so… stiff?” Alex asked carefully. 

“Traditionally, yes,” Henry sighed. “You know us Brits.”

“And there is no way for us to make it more personal?” Alex frowned. 

“Well, we can choose the verses that are sung, things like that,” Henry tilted his head. “Did you have anything in mind?”

Alex chewed on his lip, contemplating. Then, he admitted: “Well, it’s just - this is all very  _ British _ \- and I get the necessity of it, I really do, but I’m  _ not _ British, and I’ll never pass for it. It’s my wedding too, and maybe, the ceremony could reflect my heritage somehow?”

“Do you mean the Mexican side or the Texan?” Henry asked. 

“Well, both,” Alex admitted. “Maybe it would be possible to invite a Latino priest for the service? Maybe they could say a few words, and one of the songs performed could be in Spanish…”

“I like that idea,” Henry said earnestly. “I’m sure my grandmother won’t, but honestly, I don’t give a damn. Push it through, okay? I’m behind you.”

Alex smiled and angled his face to fit their lips together. Henry hummed into the kiss.

“I had one more idea,” he smiled as he pulled away, “but it’s not for the ceremony.”

“Well, out with it,” Alex grinned. 

“Our first dance,” Henry said, “let’s have it to ‘Your Song’?”

Alex just looked at him, and he wondered if Henry could see his emotions jumping out through his eyes. He felt pretty much like the impersonation of the heart emoji; it was a good thing he stopped caring years ago about how soppy he looked in front of Henry. 

“Sounds perfect,” he nodded. 

“Good,” Henry smiled, kissing Alex again. “I’ll leave the rest to you. Those are the only things I’m really invested in, to be honest. I couldn’t care less about the flowers and such.”

“You wound me, baby,” Alex grinned, sneaking an arm around his waist. “I’ll put something together with the wedding planner, as soon as I have someone - can I choose them myself, or does the Crown find someone for me?”

“I think Bea is on that,” Henry said thoughtfully. “Her engagement gift to us, basically. She’s trying to get us someone decent who is approved but not too traditional.”

“Oh, thank God,” Alex muttered. “Anyone Bruno were to sic on me would have been horrible, I’m sure.”

“You’ll be fine,” Henry smiled. “I’m sure. And if not, I’ll step in and put my foot down.”

“My hero,” Alex deadpanned, his voice dry. 

“I told you, I’ve got your back,” Henry shrugged, pressing another kiss to his forehead. 

Alex allowed himself to rest against him, feeling wrung out but too perky to sleep. 

“You wanna watch something?” Alex asked. 

“We’ve got Helados and Jaffa Cakes,” Henry grinned. “I can put on Bake-Off.”

“Sure,” Alex shrugged. “That might actually put me to sleep.”

Henry chuckled and got up to procure them their comfort food. Alex settled more comfortably onto the couch and turned on the TV, putting on one of the old episodes on Netflix. 

***

When Alex woke, he was wrapped up in Henry’s arms, squeezed together on the narrow space of the couch. The TV was running, but on mute, and the sun was filtering in through the windows. When Alex shifted slightly against Henry, the other man leaned in to kiss his hair, clearly awake already.

“Morning,” he whispered. 

“Hey,” he mumbled. “Did you sleep at all?” 

“For an hour or two,” Henry shrugged. “Too caught up in my own head.”

“Sorry,” Alex sighed, dropping his head down against his chest again.

“Don’t apologise,” Henry said softly, bringing a hand up to massage his scalp with gentle fingers. “It’s not your fault.”

Alex glanced at the TV again. Some British morning show was showing footage of them, and as they cut back to the hosts, they were laughing as they commented. Alex closed his eyes, the knot of anxiety pulling deep in his chest.

“I’ve been thinking,” Henry began, drawing Alex out of his thoughts, “I want to come with you later, to see Bruno. Just for a couple of minutes, before I have my meeting with Pez. I really need to have a talk with him.”

Alex sighed, hesitating. “Babe, I’m not some damsel in distress,” he reminded him. “You can’t keep saving me.”

“I’m very aware you can take care of yourself, Alex,” Henry assured him. “This is not what this is about.”

“But if I don’t start fighting my own battles, they’re never going to take me seriously around here.”

“Alex, you don’t understand,” Henry sighed. “To people like Bruno, it’s title before competence. You’d have to fight for decades to achieve what I can in minutes. That’s not fair to you. Let me back you up. I swear I won’t interfere after today. I’ll set some ground rules, direct a few, strong words to him regarding his treatment of you, and then I’ll be on my way and you can go wild. Just let me make it easier for you. Please?”

Henry was so earnest in his request that it melted Alex’s stubborn pride and he couldn’t help but smile up at him. “Fine,” he gave in. “But you can’t keep making me the blushing bride who needs her gallant prince to come for help. I refuse, okay?”

“You’re the farthest thing from a blushing bride I could ever imagine, you naughty rascal!” Henry laughed, making Alex chuckle, too. 

“What time is it?” Alex asked, unable to make out the time on the screen without his glasses on.

“6:14,” Henry told him. “You wanna have a lie-in, or get under and have some breakfast?”

“Will you come shower with me?” Alex asked innocently.

“See,” Henry grinned, shaking his head. “Blushing bride, my arse.”

“Yes, sweetheart,” Alex grinned, hands wandering to cup Henry’s buttocks and leaning in to kiss him. “Always in for talking about that sweet ass.”

Henry laughed against his lips, allowing Alex to deepen the kiss. 

***

Bruno’s face when Alex turned up on time for their appointment but with Henry in tow was something else entirely. One day, Alex thought, that vein in his left temple was definitely going to burst, and it would probably be Alex’s fault. He would have no regrets.

“Bruno,” Henry greeted him, his tone polite but clipped; more like his brother than Alex had ever heard him. 

“Your Royal Highness,” Bruno said with a bow. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’d like a word with you before you speak to Alex,” he announced. He turned to Alex then, and his expression softened. “Love, could you wait outside?” Alex eyebrows raised.  _ Are you serious?,  _ he asked through his eyes. It wasn’t like he didn’t know they’d be talking about him. But Henry’s expression was one of apologetic determination, so he sighed and turned on his heel, stepping out of the door again. 

He did not go far, though. He stayed right in front of the door, all but pressing himself to the wood, trying his best to eavesdrop. He ignored the Royal Guard a few feet away who sent him a disapproving look. 

The voices were a bit muffled through the door, but he could still hear what was being said, much to his relief.

“I want to express my displeasure about how things have been handled until now, Bruno,” Henry began. 

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Your Highness,” Bruno replied.

“Information has been kept from us,” Henry clarified. “And I won’t stand for it. This is  _ our _ wedding and from now on, I want everything that concerns it reported back to us. I don’t care if we’re short on tableware or if every leader of the Anglican Church has gone into protest because a Prince of England is marrying a Catholic man -  _ we  _ should be the ones to hear about it first, not Philip or anyone else. Have I made myself clear?”

“Very,” Bruno said, and Alex couldn’t help but smile because, dear God, authoritative Henry? He was like something right out of Alex’s wet dreams.

“Good,” Henry said. “Then we can move on to the next point. And that one is even more important, so I want you to listen to me very carefully.” He paused, probably for the dramatic effect, before continuing: “I heard everything about how you treated Alex the last time he was here, and I don’t care if my grandmother personally scripted the encounter, I won’t stand for it. Alex, as my fiancé, is to be treated with the appropriate respect, and if I hear you’re not granting him that, you are to face some very serious consequences.”

“Your Highness,” Bruno spoke up, and he sounded very nervous now. “I never meant any disrespect, I promise. The Queen merely instructed me to educate Mr Claremont-Diaz on Royal Protocol, and -”

“You did much more than educate, and you know it,” Henry interrupted him. “You reprimanded him, and that’s beyond your station. I don’t care what the Queen has to say about it - if I hear of it again, I will personally make sure you’re not to work in the vicinity of me or Alex ever again. Have I made myself clear?”

After a moment, Bruno replied: “Crystal clear, Your Highness.”

“Good,” Henry said. “You can tell the Queen that, if she has a problem with Alex’s or my conduct, she can come to speak to me directly.”

“I will forward it.”

“Thank you. Have a nice day, Bruno.”

“You too, Your Highness.”

Alex had barely enough time to step away from the door before it opened again. Henry stepped out, sending him a soft smile. 

“All settled,” he said, under his breath. “Let me know if he gives you any more trouble, okay?”

“Right,” Alex nodded, biting his lip. Then, he pulled Henry in by his blazer jacket and kissed him thoroughly. Henry made a soft noise against his lips but didn’t resist him. When Alex released him, he was smiling. “Tell Pez I said hello,” he muttered as he let go of Henry.

“Right,” Henry nodded, clearing his throat and blinking. “I will. See you tonight?”

“See you,” Alex nodded, and with that, he stepped past Henry and into the office, where Bruno was already waiting for him.

The old man looked much more subdued than he had before his talk with Henry, Alex noted. He had to give it to Henry; he’d been right. A few well-formulated words from the right person seemed to be all it took, in this case. 

“Mr Claremont-Diaz,” Bruno said politely, only meeting his eyes briefly. “Please, take a seat.”

Alex did, sitting across from Bruno at the desk, unsure what to expect now that Bruno had been forbidden from scolding him. Bruno seemed in a similar situation, if his hesitance was anything to go by: He opened his mouth, closed it again, then took a moment to seemingly gather himself. 

“Yesterday’s event did not go… ideally, from our side,” was what he settled on, eventually. “Which was, as I have been made aware of, in big part our fault. We’ve kept quiet about details concerning the talks with the Anglican Church, and both you and the Prince were taken off guard by that line of questioning. I will compile a report and have it sent over to Nottingham Cottage as soon as possible.”

“Right,” Alex nodded, a frown on his face. “Shouldn’t we have a say in those talks? Our opinions matter, don’t they? I feel uncomfortable thinking that Philip and who-knows-who-else are negotiating my future without asking what I think about it.”

Bruno was silent for a long moment. “I will bring it up with His Royal Highness,” Bruno said, rather stiffly. “After you read my report, you could compose a statement summarising your standpoint on the matters in question, and then it can be taken into consideration.”

“There’s no way either of us could attend these talks?” Alex asked.

“I think that would be unwise,” Bruno shook his head. “You’re not Anglican, for one. Prince Philip is going to be the head of the Church of England one day. This is his place, not yours.”

Alex wanted to disagree - this was  _ his _ wedding, not Philip’s - but he kept quiet for now. Better to pick his battles. He could wait and see how this developed.

“Since the public interest about your activities as a member of the Royal Family is noticeably growing, we have decided to start working on choosing appropriate charities for you to support immediately,” Bruno announced. He picked up a folder and handed it to Alex. “These are pre-approved by Clarence House. Please peruse them at your leisure and report back when you have decided.”

Alex nodded, accepting the folder. 

“I also have news regarding your wedding planner,” Bruno announced. “Princess Beatrice has found someone suitable and has scheduled an appointment for you on Monday. That should leave you plenty of time to come up with some first rough ideas to present to her. Her name is Aimee Lindt, and she’s a renowned wedding planner - she was born in Kent, but has lived all over Europe and has planned the wedding of the Princess of Denmark two years ago. We think she will be up to the job.”

“Great,” Alex nodded. “I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

“Please remember, though,” Bruno added, “that all drafts for the wedding have to go through Clarence House and be approved by us. So, while Miss Lindt may help design a wedding after your wishes, it is up to the Crown whether or not your plans will be realised.”

“And who do I speak to, to make sure they are?” Alex asked, his eyes hard. 

“I’m your middle man, for now,” Bruno explained. “I don’t make the decisions, though. They are made higher up.”

Alex could see that this was going to become problematic. Bruno was not going to be the most enthusiastic soldier in the fight to get any of Alex's suggestions approved. He might have to dig deeper, see who really made the decisions here and win them over.

“Do you have any more questions?” Bruno asked.

Alex wondered how much longer they’d have sat here if Henry hadn’t come with him in the first place; how long Bruno had originally planned to lecture Alex for his behaviour yesterday, because now that he was forbidden, he was clearly at a loss about what to say. 

“No,” Alex said, at last. “Not at this moment.

***

Alex spent the rest of his afternoon going through the wedding folder, making colour coded notes that mostly consisted of how gruesome Clarence House’s pre-approved choices were and googling alternatives that were more up to his taste. Then, he watched Catherine and Arthur’s wedding back to front three times, taking notes and screenshots and memorising every important detail that jumped to his attention, everything he wanted to use, everything he wanted to change or had questions about. He even watched Philip and Martha’s wedding once more, to take note of the differences. By the time Henry came home, his designated wedding notebook was already broken in by a quarter of the pages. 

Henry, though, had not turned up at Nottingham Cottage alone, so his focus was quickly shattered when he was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug and Pez cried into his ear: “Alex, mate! Look at you, all at home in your own house at the Palace! I always knew you’d make a fine noble, deep down!”

“Fuck you,” Alex laughed, closing his notebook and elbowing him. 

“It’s a compliment!” Pez said innocently as he let go of him. “Own your 20,000 pounds engagement ring and your future title!”

“My  _ what _ now?” Alex coughed, glancing at the ring first and then at Henry, who looked sheepish. “Tell me he’s lying!”

“You wound me, Alex!” Pez called, putting a dramatic hand to his chest. “Who do you think was with Henry when he chose it?!”

Alex cursed in Spanish. Henry just laughed. 

“Right,” Pez said, turning Alex’s attention back to him. “Now stop whatever you’re doing and get dressed. We’re going out.”

“We are?” Alex asked, perplexed.

“We haven’t celebrated your engagement yet, silly!” he called, putting his hands to his hips like an angry housewife. “You didn’t think you’d get out of a serious rave, now did you?!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Alex grinned, putting his notes away and getting to his feet. “Give me ten minutes?”

“Atta boy,” Pez nodded approvingly. “You too, Henry. I’m not taking you like that.”

“Okay, okay!” Henry laughed, holding up his hands. “Don’t burn down the house in the five minutes we leave you to your own devices!”

“The lack of trust!” Pez called, scandalised. “I resent that, Henry!”

Henry got dressed quickly and perfunctory, while Alex revelled in the opportunity to dress for himself, not for the Crown or the press. As a result, Pez whistled at Alex choice of tight chinos and red shirt plus leather jacket combi, but only tutted at Henry’s simple button-down and trousers, promptly pushing past him to choose something more exciting. When he was at last satisfied and Henry looked mouthwatering in a well-fitted T-shirt and casual Blazer, Pez frog-marched them out of the house to where a car was waiting for them, Bea in the passenger seat, beaming at them.

“Right,” Alex chuckled, looking back and forth between her and Pez as the car started. “So, where are you taking us?”

“Don’t you mind, Alexander,” Pez replied, with an air of mystery as he typed a message into his phone. “It’s a surprise.”

They ended up at a club somewhere in London, and they were let in through a back door and immediately led into a private room, overlooking the other partygoers. When the staff opened the door to wave them inside, though, Alex quickly realised there were other people already occupying it: Namely, two very familiar girls with dark curls and wide smiles who flung themselves at Alex the moment he stepped through the door. 

“Surprise!” Pez shouted, and he could hear Bea laugh.

“Oh my God, you’re here!” Alex called, somehow managing to wrap an arm around each June and Nora and wrapping them up in a group hug. “How are you here?!”

“Pez invited us!” June answered, pulling away to grin at him. “He said there was no way we could let your engagement slip by without a proper party, and I have to say, I quite agree!”

“Right,” Nora nodded, smirking as she ruffled his hair and Alex made a face at him. “So we got our butts onto a plane and flew across the Atlantic. Figured it might do you some good to see our faces before the Crown completely indoctrinates you.”

“Can we please talk about anything but that?” Alex moaned, and Nora laughed. “At this rate, Bruno and Philip will appear in my nightmares.”

“Who’s Bruno?” June asked, raising her eyebrows. 

“He’s not going to be a problem anymore, I made sure of that,” Henry sighed, but he smiled at the two of them and June turned to pull him into a tight hug. “It’s good to see you!”

“It really is,” June agreed. “Good to hear you’re taking care of my baby brother!”

“For fuck’s sake, not you, too!” Alex groaned. “I’m  _ not _ a damsel in distress! I can take care of myself!”

“Yes, but if you handle it, the odds of you burning down the monarchy in the process are approximately 78%,” Nora said reasonably. “The odds of Henry resolving this peacefully are much better. Probability of a fairy tale wedding without international incident around 89%, I’d say.”

“I hate y’all so much,” Alex laughed. “I can get shit done, too!”

“We know you can, darling,” Bea told him kindly. “You just don’t have to do everything without help, is all.”

“Enough talk about the displeasures of the monarchy,” Pez demanded, handing out green shots. “Tonight, we are here to celebrate.” And when the last of them had a drink in hand - Bea’s filled with kiwi juice - he raised his glass and called: “To Henry and Alex, for finally getting hitched!”

“To making history, and all that,” Nora added, grinning at Alex, who laughed. 

“To showing the Crown, the Tories and all the bigots out there that love always wins!” Bea chimed in. 

“But most importantly,” June smiled softly, catching Alex’s eyes, “to your happiness.”

Alex thought his smile must be splitting his face in two when he caught Henry’s gaze. His eyes were soft and fond and it made Alex feel warm inside. They toasted and drank, the shot fruity and rich on Alex’s tongue. 

After that, more drinks followed. He spent time catching up with June and Nora and then, he remembered dancing with Henry, and then, Pez opened a bottle of whiskey and everything became a bit fuzzy. 

When Henry eventually announced that they should really be leaving, Alex was well past drunk. Henry had a tight arm around his waist, and apart from keeping him close to Henry’s body, it had the nice side-effect that it kept Alex grounded; the room was spinning dangerously, if he was being honest. 

Goodbyes were made. Nora and June stayed behind with Pez but promised to come to see him the next day. Bea came home with them, leading the way as Henry kept Alex upright when he stumbled over his own feet, patiently helping him on his way to the car.

“How’re’ou still so -  _ sober _ ?” Alex brought out, confused. “I saw you drink!”

“I stopped drinking about two hours ago, you tosser,” Henry told him fondly, manhandling him into the car. “I switched to Bea’s non-alcoholic version when I noticed how drunk you were. Someone needed to keep an eye out for you.”

“That’s - that’s sweet,” Alex said after a moment of contemplation, deflating. He groaned. “Why’re you always so sweet?” ‘s not fair.”

Henry chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to Alex’s forehead as the car started moving. “Because you’re strong and beautiful and I love you more than I can express,” Henry told him earnestly. “And I really appreciate everything you’re doing so much. So I want to take care of you in return.”

Alex frowned, confused. “‘m not doing anythin’,” he protested.

“But you are,” Henry insisted. “You’re here.”

“Course I am,” Alex snorted. “I get to marry you.”

Henry smiled at that, pressing another kiss to his forehead. Alex sighed, leaning against his shoulder and closing his eyes, hoping the world would stop spinning soon.

“You’re too adorable,” Bea sighed. “One more reason I’ll never marry. You spoiled me for any relationship. I won’t settle for anything less than what you have.”

“Don’t say that,” he heard Henry chuckle, and the vibrations in his chest shook him a little.

“It’s the utter truth,” Bea vowed. “You’re this real-life gay Disney movie right up in my face. A love like yours isn’t supposed to happen in real life, you know.”

“And yet, here we are,” Henry said, and he was clearly smiling. “So what does that say about your theory?”

“You’re the exception to the rule,” Bea snorted. 

“Sometimes I wonder if the whole Mountchristen-Windsor side of the family hasn’t made us too much of realists, if not pessimists,” Henry sighed. “If Dad hadn’t died, would we have been more likely to dream?”

Bea was silent for a moment. “Probably,” she allowed. 

“Maybe we should start listening to our Fox genes more,” Henry suggested softly. “It’s what I’ve been trying to do.”

He turned his head and pressed another kiss to the top of Alex’s head. Alex wanted to say something, but his mouth wasn’t cooperating and his eyes were too heavy to open them. And then, Bea was talking but he couldn’t make out the words, and he knew he was drifting off to sleep. 


	5. The Wedding Planner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I'm back with the new chapter, the wedding planner, and more Bruno-induced angst. Enjoy :D
> 
> Warnings for Alex facing racism and discrimination in this chapter, not to mention the usual homophobia that this story deals with.

Alex took an immediate liking to Aimee Lindt. Her strawberry blonde curls were held up by barrettes with large flowers pinned to them, matching her colourful dress and her sunny personality, which was an honest breath of fresh air in a palace full of stuffy, moody people. Alex understood immediately why she became a wedding planner: The idea of organising one of the most memorable days in a couple’s relationship had her eyes shining in delight and Alex wanted to feed her cake and tend to her like a houseplant lest Clarence House destroyed that enthusiasm and idealism. But she had worked with royalty before, he reminded himself. She probably had thicker skin than her appearance let on.

Besides, he tended to kill all his houseplants.

“I absolutely  _ love _ your idea with Prince Henry’s outfit!” she gushed, looking over the photos from Arthur Fox’s wedding day he had procured for her. “We can definitely have something designed for him! I know the perfect person! He’s a Belgian designer, his name is Xavier Abboud Ele - his suits, Alex! They’re to dream for, I have to send you a link to his website! Will the Crown have a problem with non-British designers?” she asked, frowning. “I mean, when I worked for the Danish court, they were fine with it but then again, I wasn’t Danish, to begin with -”

“I’d have to check with Bruno,” Alex rolled his eyes. “But I’d say contact him, see if he’d be free, and I’ll try to push it through. We can still offer to use someone British for me, as a compromise.”

“Sounds good!” Aimee beamed. “Have you thought about what you’d like to wear?”

“Honestly, I’m okay with getting together with a designer and brainstorming,” Alex shrugged. “No definite vision here, unlike Henry.”

“That’s fine, don’t worry,” she assured him. “When I first met with Princess Caroline, she had  _ no idea _ what her dress was supposed to look like, Alex. And the end result was one of the most beautiful pieces I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not worried,” Alex smiled. “At least, not about my suit. There are other things, though…”

“Well, out with it,” Aimee frowned. “I’m here to help!”

And that’s how Alex started going over everything Henry and he had talked about - the way they wanted the ceremony to go, how they wanted to break out of the constraints tradition put on them, and at the same time, how they still weren’t sure they’d even be allowed a church wedding because the Church of England still hadn’t come to a decision. He talked about the vows and his wishes for the ceremony to reflect his heritage as well as Henry’s. He vented out his frustrations about all the material Clarence House had sent over and how almost none of it was up to his taste. He went on and on and Aimee listened intently all the way through, making noises of agreement every now and then or taking notes and when Alex had finally run out of words to say, she reached out for his hand and looked him into the eyes, her green ones serious and calm. 

“Alex, take a deep breath for me,” she said softly. Alex did, squeezing back when her fingers tightened on his in approval. “Good,” she praised. “Now, listen to me. I know that, right now, this all seems overwhelming, and doubly so for you because you’re an outsider to this institution and they are reluctant to bend to your wishes. But that doesn’t mean that it can’t be done. It’s going to be a lot of negotiating, but from what I hear, that’s your area of expertise, isn’t it?”

A soft smile found its way to Alex’s lips. “It is,” he allowed.

“See,” she nodded encouragingly. “And you’re not alone in this! You’ve got me at your side, and from my meeting with Princess Beatrice, I can tell she’s a formidable ally, too. Not to mention your fiancé. So whenever things get hard, you just remember that there are others around to help you, okay?”

“Right,” Alex nodded, feeling a little better already. “I’ll try to do that.”

“Good,” she nodded, letting go of his hand. “Now, I have a few more questions… About those vows -”

***

“I’m glad to hear you like her so much,” June told him over the phone that same evening as Alex cooked dinner for himself and Henry. He had the phone on speaker while he was cutting onion, garlic and chicken for Chilaquiles. “I still feel awful I can’t be there. As the Best Woman, I should be around to help more.”

“You helped plenty last week,” Alex reminded her. And it was true; after the engagement party, June and Nora had come over and leafed with him through every single page of the wedding folder, watched the wedding videos he’d attained, giving their opinions and sharing ideas. True, it would be a lie to say he didn’t wish that they were here with him right now - but they had phones and he could always rant at them, which was something. “Plus, Bea is here if I should ever need her.”

“Thank God for Bea,” June agreed with a sigh. 

“By the way, you and Nora will need to decide what you want to wear to the wedding,” Alex remembered. “Maybe get it coordinated with Bea and report back. Since you’re all going to be up front with us, it should at least be communicated. Remember Martha’s wedding and how her bridesmaids all wore that same awful dress?”

“Oh my god,” June groaned, horrified. “Please tell me you’re not going to do that to us?!”

“I’m not going to tell you what to wear, weren’t you listening?!” Alex rolled his eyes. “You can decide for yourself, Bug, I don’t care. Just talk to Bea and Nora about it so you don’t clash and the press doesn’t have a field day.”

“Noted,” June nodded, sounding relieved. “Glad to hear there’s something I can do, then.”

“I’m sure other things will pop up along the way,” Alex chuckled. “If you’re so keen on duties.”

June laughed and then fell silent. Alex occupied himself gutting the chillies for a moment before June asked carefully: “Heard anything from the Church of England yet?”

“Nope,” Alex sighed. “Apart from that report Bruno sent over last week, I mean. The one that made me want to scream.”

The report had been short and carefully worded, but if you read between the lines, the issues of the church dignitaries became very clear: 

  1. Alex was a man, which meant:  
a) sin sin SIN - somewhere, Queen Victoria was SCREAMING  
b) problems with succession - would there be an heir? Would the heir be of royal blood? Would it be a bastard?
  2. Alex was catholic, which translated to The Enemy™ within the Church of England - what would Henry VIII say???????
  3. Alex was not even a British citizen - before becoming a royal and being allowed to marry into one of England’s most sacred Churches, should he not at least take citizenship, give up his American passport and settle down permanently? Westminster Abbey does not marry tourists



And this, Alex thought, was a much more extensive catalogue of complaints than anyone had ever let on. He had known about point 1a) all along - it was a given - and point 2) was something he had by now gathered was an issue, but he had not even considered the succession in relation to the wedding. After all, Henry’s sexuality had been public for years now - did it really only occur to them now that the wedding was to take place? He thought this matter had been settled long ago! And honestly, children did not seem all that pressing on his list of priorities right now. Why did they have to find a solution now for something that wouldn’t be relevant for them until years into the future?

And, last but not least, the citizenship matter had shook Alex to the bone. He had not expected such a demand, and he was not willing to give an inch on that. He was American, and he would stay American. If it were a matter of dual citizenship, that would be a different issue, but it was clear that this was not the intent behind the request.

They wanted Alex in Britain, permanently. They wanted him to be a full-time royal without danger of him falling back into a political career in the US. And fuck if he was going to give that to them.

It did not even make  _ sense,  _ historically. Political alliances with foreign nobles had been made left and right for centuries, and the fact that they’d been a Spanish Princess or a French Prince had been  _ beneficial _ to the Crowns goals. No one had asked of them to cut all their ties to their native country! It was only because they were scared of what Alex represented, and the potential he had. They were not going to tolerate the possibility of a Senior Member of the Royal Family in the American Congress, that much was very clear. 

Once Henry had dislodged him from the ceiling, they had formulated a clear statement together.

  1. All matters of succession would be dealt with when the time came. They were confident they could keep up the royal bloodline if the Church of England was ready to accept surrogacy as a solution. 
  2. Alex was unwilling to give up his faith, as it was part of his heritage.
  3. Alex was willing to take up dual citizenship, but he would not give up U.S. citizenship.



Alex had no idea how their statement had been received - he had not heard back from Bruno since he had handed it in. He had an appointment with him tomorrow, though, to report on the results of his meeting with Aimee, so he’d be sure to ask. 

“Honestly, maybe you’d be better off not doing it at Westminster?” June offered, a bit tentatively. “You could get Buckingham instead, right? And there’d be much less pressure and fewer demands on you.”

“That’s true,” Alex sighed, adding oil to the pan and turning up the heat. “But doesn’t it feel like a defeat? That we’re not allowed because we’re gay and I’m not one of the white nobles they usually cater to?” 

“I see what you mean,” June sighed. “But maybe, this is a fight you don’t need to win. Maybe it’s not worth fighting in the first place.”

“Maybe,” Alex allowed, adding the seeds, garlic and onions to the pan. “I’m not convinced yet, though. This is Henry’s birthright. He shouldn’t be kept from it because people are homophobic and racist bastards.”

“They’re always going to be,” June reminded him. “You can’t dismantle the monarchy single-handedly, Alex.”

“But I can try making a difference,” Alex insisted. “It’s what I do, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” June chuckled. 

***

“Mr Claremont-Diaz,” Bruno greeted him the next morning, tone as polite as can be ever since Henry had given him his talking-to last week. “Please, have a seat. I trust your weekend was productive?”

“Very,” Alex nodded. 

“Good to hear. How was your meeting with Ms Lindt?”

“Splendid. We’re very much on the same wavelength,” Alex answered. Bruno pursed his lips, as if he wasn’t quite sure that was good news. “We started working on the ideas Henry and I had immediately. As soon as we have something to show for, you will hear about it.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Bruno said, though honestly, he seemed to dread it.

“I have a question, though,” Alex said. “How does the Crown view foreign designers?”

Bruno pursed his lips, contemplating. “We’d prefer it if you chose from the British pool,” he replied, his tone slow and careful now. “Is there a particular reason why it has to be this particular designer?”

“Because we have a vision on how this outfit should look like, and Aimee thinks this designer would be best suited,” Alex’s answer came without missing a beat, unphased. “If it’s a problem, my outfit could be designed by a British talent, as a compromise.”

Bruno’s eyes widened. “This is about the Prince’s outfit?” he asked, his voice sharper now. “I really don’t think to have it be designed abroad would be appropriate. After all, there are strict guidelines regarding -”

“Henry has expressed strong wishes towards me about how he wants his outfit to look like,” Alex interrupted Bruno. “I intend to make it happen. And if the Belgian designer is the best fit for that, then so be it.”

Bruno looked at him for a long moment. Then he leaned back in his chair, chewing his lip and contemplating his words. “Let me make you an offer,” he said, at last. “You’ll have more than one designer send you a draft: two of them British, and the Belgian. Miss Lindt can pick the British designers herself. And in the end, you consider all of the proposals and choose the best design. And if you don’t end up choosing a British design for the Prince, you’ll definitely wear one yourself.”

“Deal,” Alex nodded. Aimee had been right; he needed to remember that he was good at this. He was a politician at heart. After a beat, Alex asked: “Are there any news on Westminster?” 

“Not yet,” Bruno shook his head. “And there won’t be until next week, I’m afraid, if at all.”

Alex nodded, jaw set. 

“Have you looked at the list of charities I gave you?” Bruno asked. 

“Yes,” Alex said, frowning. It had been a very generic list, and none of the charities had really spoken to him, had really screamed ‘Alex’. “Can I be honest with you?”

“When have you ever not been?” Bruno sighed, gesturing for him to go ahead.

“Henry has the shelters,” Alex began. “LGBTQ projects, mostly, and some cancer relief funds. Bea has the sobriety initiative. Catherine has the whole cancer research thing going on. Martha is all about motherhood, and Philip is active with the British Red Cross, because of his military service. Everyone has their roles, and they all originate from their own interests and experiences. So, you can’t just shove me into ‘Children & Arts’ because it’s convenient and no one’s taken it up yet. That’s not how this is supposed to work.”

Bruno’s lips were thin now. “Then which direction would appeal to you?” he asked.

Alex was silent for a long moment. Then, he said softly: “Anti-racism, for example. Or something related to education - financial relief for socially disadvantaged children. Working with immigrant families. I mean, I am half-Mexican, for God’s sake! That’s a narrative that can be used.”

“Mr Claremont-Diaz,” Bruno sighed. “I had hoped that you were aware that, within British society, these topics were becoming progressively problematic. It would be unwise for you to take up something so precarious in the public eye.”

“Henry is doing LGBTQ work!” Alex protested. “How is that different?!”

“We needed to back him up on his narrative in terms of his own homosexuality,” Bruno said.

“And you don’t need to back me up in regards of my own heritage?!” Alex asked, incensed.

“We just think it’s better, for your own sake, to not remind the public too much of your Mexican heritage,” Bruno replied. “To them, you’re American, first and foremost. There’s no need to bring up uncomfortable subjects before the wedding and raise the rate of disapproval.”

“Do you even hear yourself?!” Alex snapped, his voice rising. “Just  _ look _ at me! You can’t whitewash me, and you’ll never be able to!”

“That’s not what we -” Bruno began, but Alex cut him off.

“That’s exactly what you’re trying to do!” Alex called, glaring at him. "And let's be clear on that front: Having a POC in the Royal Family will have to mean no more shying away from these issues. You can't hide behind the apparent political neutrality of the monarchy or their century-long history of racism -"

"That's quite enough, Mr Claremont-Diaz," Bruno interrupted stiffly. "I'm trying my best to treat you with respect, but I won't have you insult the Crown."

Alex growled and got to his feet, starting to pace. 

"Just think of the opportunities you'd have through me!" Alex beckoned. "I'm the most international person you have within the Royal Family! Use that! You can build bridges, you can -"

"What you're suggesting is out of the question and you know it," Bruno cut him off, his tone short.

"Well, what you're suggesting is discrimination against my person!" Alex snarled. "And I won't back down on this! Either, I do charities of my choosing or none at all!"

And with that, he stormed out of the office, banging the door shut behind himself. 

***

Alex was still in a horrific mood when Henry returned from the cancer ward, smarting even more when the other man proceeded to tell him about the children and his day. Alex plastered a smile onto his face, though, deciding not to tell Henry about his latest fight with Bruno. He knew that Henry worried and felt guilty whenever Alex had a hard time due to the Crown; he had spent more than one night sleepless as of late, and he did not want to make it any worse than it already was. 

Not to mention that he wanted to become a fucking politician, damnit. What kind of politician couldn't even handle a bunch of white bigots and wriggle his will out of them? He was going to be lost in Congress, at this rate.

"Alex," Henry frowned after a while, clearly catching onto Alex's mood, despite his best attempts. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Alex lied. 

"You seem off," Henry insisted. "Did something happen?"

"There's nothing, baby," Alex chuckled, pressing a kiss to Henry's cheek. It didn't seem to work, because his eyes narrowed just so. "So, what do you want to have for dinner? I could fix us some pasta, or -"

"Actually," Henry interrupted him, "how do you feel about going out? We haven't done that since we arrived in London."

"We can just do that?" Alex asked a bit stumped. "Won't we cause, like, a huge scene?"

"I haven't been a Prince since yesterday, Alex," Henry teased, his voice fond. "I know where to go, I know where we won't be bothered much. I'll just call ahead somewhere and get us a table, shall I?"

"Sounds wonderful," Alex admitted, leaning in to press an earnest kiss to Henry's lips. Henry returned it, lingering a bit too long before getting out his phone and looking through the contacts, humming as he did. Then, he dialled and held the phone to his ear. "Michele? Yes, this is Henry! I know, long time! I haven't been in London for quite a while, just returned with my fiancé - thank you, thank you - I was actually wondering if we could have a table for two tonight? --- I knew I could count on you! Thank you so much! See you in an hour?"

He hung up and flashed Alex a self-satisfied smile. "I hope you're in the mood for Italian?" he checked. "You said something about pasta earlier."

Alex laughed. "Perfect," he grinned.

***

“Shaan!” Alex grinned when he got into the car about twenty minutes later. “Long time no see! How is life? How is Zahra?”

“Good, and good, thank you, Alex,” Shaan chuckled, looking back at him from the passenger seat. “I’m trying to talk her into coming over to London, but she’s still smarting about the sudden move back, so she’s been stubborn.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex grimaced. “I know London - DC is a much farther distance than NYC - DC.”

“It’s fine,” Shaan waved him off. “We knew what we were getting into, getting married. And we both know you’ll eventually end up in the US again, so it won’t be permanent.”

“Well, at least one of us is confident,” Alex sighed. 

Shaan raised an eyebrow at him. Henry nudged him with a frown.

“Moving back to the US is not up to discussion. You know that,” he muttered. “Just because we’re not shouting it out to the Crown right now it doesn’t mean the plan is off.”

“Right,” Alex nodded, looking out of the window.

“Alex,” Henry said, his voice sharper now. “I mean it. This - Kensington Palace, Britain - it’s not permanent.”

Alex nodded again. He felt Henry and Shaan exchange a glance. 

“So, Michele’s?” Shaan asked, clearly changing the subject.

“Right,” Henry nodded. “You’ll love it there, Alex. It’s a wonderful little restaurant, and the owner is a real treasure.”

Alex smiled at him. “Looking forward to it,” he said. 

The restaurant was a little hole-in-the-wall place in Chelsea, and Alex would have never pinpointed it as an establishment where royalty frequents. But it did had a lovely flair and lots of hidden corners, offering them much-welcome privacy, and the owner, a perky middle-aged Italian man, was indeed the right mix between attentive and discreet. The food was delicious, too, and Alex felt himself relax into the feeling of being out and about again. 

He had  _ missed  _ this. Being cooped up in the palace did things to his head. 

“This is better,” Henry muttered, a soft smile on his face. “You look more yourself now.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex sighed. 

“Don’t apologise,” Henry frowned. “I know how it is, and it  _ isn’t _ your fault. Please remember that.”

Alex nodded, taking a sip of his wine.

“Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you,” Henry said suddenly, changing the subject.

“Oh?” Alex perked up. “Go ahead.”

“You know how I left David with Bea when I moved to New York because I didn’t want to put him through the transatlantic move?” Alex nodded, and Henry continued. “Well, now that we’re back here, I was wondering if we could take him back to Nottingham Cottage. I do miss him a lot.”

“Of course!” Alex said immediately, blinking. “He’s your dog, Hen! Of course, he should live with us! Fuck, I should have thought of that sooner.”

“You had so much on your mind,” Henry smiled, shaking his head. “Besides, it isn’t like he’s unhappy with Bea. He’s got Mr Wobbles and he’s in familiar surroundings. But we’ve been reconnecting since I’m back and I’d just like to take him home with me, at last.”

“Then let’s do that,” Alex nodded, smiling. “He can keep me company when I’m stuck at the cottage, running my head wild about wedding plans.”

“He’s good at that,” Henry pointed out, quite earnestly. “David’s got great recommendations for the job of ‘Comfort Doggie’. Granted, most are from me, but -”

Alex laughed, making Henry grin at him. He reached out to take Alex’s hand, entwining their fingers. 

“I know it’s hard right now,” Henry murmured. “But it won’t always be like this, I promise. This is just another phase we have to push through.”

“Right,” Alex nodded, smiling at him. “I just have to keep remembering that.”

“I’ll remind you when you forget,” Henry promised. “Don’t you worry about that.”


	6. Facing Off Against The Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! Here I am, with the second update in two days! What can I say - I got it done, I was excited about this one, so I decided to post it! It's very angsty and things escalate, but I do hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

Aimee, Alex was pleased to find, was not only a delight to work with, but quick and efficient in everything she did, which took a weight off Alex's shoulders every time they met. It was nice to see that  _ someone  _ at this palace, apart from Henry and Bea, was working  _ with _ him, not  _ against  _ him. 

"I have the designs," she beamed at Alex, mere weeks after he had asked her to contact the designers for Henry's outfit. "I'm just going to hand them over to you without comment or name so that you're unbiased."

She gave Alex three separate folders and Alex immediately tore into the first one, no chill at all. It was immediately clear to him that he didn't like the first one - too old-fashioned. The second was better, though he found it a bit plain. The third, though - the third was absolutely perfect. It had taken Arthur Fox's 80s design and turned it into a contemporary style, one that definitely stood out while not being too flashy to still be worn by a member of the royal family. 

"I think this is it," Alex breathed. "I mean, Henry is the one to decide, but -"

"I knew you'd say that," Aimee chuckled, her eyes gleaming in mirth. "Didn't I tell you Xavier's designs are to die for?" 

"I never doubted you," Alex laughed, glancing back down at the folder in front of him. "Henry will  _ love  _ it, I know he will!" 

As it turned out, Henry more than loved it. Alex proceeded to show him all three designs in the evening, and when he reached Xavier's, he froze, staring for a long moment. 

"Alex," he breathed, and when he looked up at him again, his eyes were slightly glassy, making Alex's chest feel tight. "This is even better than I imagined!"

"Glad you like it, baby," Alex said earnestly. "Shall I inform Bruno and everyone of your decision, then?"

Instead of replying, Henry just leaned in to kiss Alex thoroughly - but Alex thought, this was probably answer enough. 

***

Bruno, though, was not as thrilled about the designs as they had been. Three days after Alex had handed them in to have them approved, he was called into his office. Alex had honestly expected the conversation to revolve around Alex's charity choices - they still hadn't come to an agreement - but when he saw the folder on Bruno's desk, his heart fell.

"The outfit is inappropriate for a Prince of Wales," Bruno told him. "It was originally designed for someone who was not of royal descent and who married into the family. It would send out the wrong message for His Royal Highness to wear something similar."

"How can it send out the wrong message for a son to wear an outfit fashioned after the image of his deceased father's wedding suit?" Alex asked, flabbergasted.

Bruno pursed his lips. "I appreciate the thought behind it," he said. "But Clarence House has rejected it. There are rules for what is appropriate and what isn't, and His Royal Highness knows that. He will understand."

"Fuck the rules!" Alex snapped, and Bruno bristled. "No, you listen to me! Henry doesn't ask for much! The things he wants for himself for this wedding - I can count them on one hand, if that. It might very well be only this because the others are for  _ me  _ more than for him. So I won't stand for you denying him -"

"Don't be ridiculous, Mr Claremont-Diaz," Bruno sighed, rubbing his temple. "The Crown is going beyond and above to accommodate his wishes. Are we not currently planning a very unconventional wedding? Are we not in negotiations with the Church of England on your behalf?"

"Well, thank you for granting our basic rights as human beings," Alex rolled his eyes. His hands balled into fists. He took a deep breath.  _ Strategy, _ he reminded himself.  _ You're a politician.  _ "What exactly is unsuitable about the outfit?" he asked, instead of continuing his rant. "Tell me so we can make adjustments."

Bruno frowned. "I doubt Clarence House will accept it even if you -"

"Let. Me. Try," Alex ground out, and Bruno just looked at him like he thought Alex was the bane of his existence. 

"Fine," he gave in. "I'll compile a report for you, pointing out how exactly the outfit is unsuitable. Will that suffice?"

"Yes," Alex huffed. "Thank you."

There was a long silence between them, then Bruno asked: "Have you thought some more about your charity options?"

"Have you revised your opinion on my suggestions?" Alex returned.

They just glared at each other. Bruno sighed. 

"You may go," Bruno said, and as soon as he was out of the room, he dialled Aimee's number, needing someone to rant at.

And so, Aimee put Alex and Xavier into direct contact so that they could confer over the changes on Henry's outfit together. It was slow work since it wasn't easy to work in the changes Clarence House demanded without compromising the original design, and it was a frustrating process, but work on it, they did. 

All the while, the wedding preparations proceeded in full speed. Clarence House had sent Aimee a pre-approved guest list - why they'd sent it directly to her and not to Alex, only the Queen knew, he suspected - and they'd spent hours and hours going over the names of people Alex had never heard of, texting with Bea and Henry about whether or not these people were even necessary on the guest list in the first place. Then, they started tentatively adding Alex's side, and all the while, Alex was panicking about who Clarence House was going to cut.

"I know this is frustrating for you," Aimee told him softly. "You're under a lot of pressure. This is the wedding of the decade, and the Crown is working against you, not with you. But I've seen a lot of grooms and brides in horrifically stressful situations, and in the end, their wedding was wonderful and they were glad that they went through with all of it. So whenever you need it, take a breather, lean on your loved ones, and then try to push through, because it  _ will  _ be worth it."

Alex smiled at her, grateful for her support, though he had to admit, if only to himself, that he had trouble with the 'leaning on your loved ones' part, or, more specifically, leaning on Henry. 

Henry still didn't know that the design for his outfit, the one that he'd loved so much, had been rejected, and he couldn't bring himself to tell him. Just as he didn't want to burden him with the disagreements he was having with Bruno about the charity. The secrets were weighing on him, but he had convinced himself that it was better this way - he didn't want to cause Henry any more sleepless nights, and, if he was quite honest, he didn't want to let him down. He wanted to be able to  _ do _ this, to handle it all, and if Henry knew that he couldn't, how would that bode for their marriage?

He was sure Henry knew something was wrong, though. He hadn't come out and asked about it anymore, not since the night he had taken Alex out to dinner, but he had more subtle ways of showing that he worried: His attentiveness for Alex had gone up several notches, for one. Alex found himself on the receiving end of mind-blowing sex, sudden massages or simply wholesome cuddles on a regular base, and while this was not strange behaviour for them, strictly speaking - they'd never grown out of affections - it felt a bit like their honeymoon phase all over again; like when they first moved into the brownstone. 

Only it was all on Henry's initiative this time because Henry apparently felt as if Alex needed it. And a part of Alex shrunk together in guilt because of that. 

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Henry asked, leaning in to kiss him deeply and sweetly. They'd just had dinner and were now settling down on the couch for an evening of Netflix, David tangled between their feet. 

"Um," Alex blinked, clearing out the fuzziness of his brain. Yes, Henry  _ still  _ did that, after all these years. "Not much?"

"You want to come to the cancer ward with me?" Henry asked, smiling hopefully. "I know you haven't settled on a charity yet, but it's been weeks since the public saw you and I think it would do you good. I know you don't like being cooped up like a trophy wife," he teased.

"But… is that even allowed?" Alex asked, frowning. "I'm not sure Clarence House will approve of you suddenly changing -"

"Listen to you going on about Clarence House," Henry sighed, rolling his eyes. "Do you think I care? I'll take care of it. I want you with me, so I'll take you. I'll inform them and they'll call the hospital ahead of time to expect two members of the Royal Family instead of one. Simple as that." When Alex just raised his eyebrows at him, Henry frowned, reaching out to cup his cheek. "Don't let them scare you away from doing things you want, love," he breathed. "This isn't like you.  _ You  _ were always the rebel out of the two of us."

Alex sighed, nodding. "You're right," he agreed. "Hell, let's do this. The kids will be happy and it will be good to do stuff together, for a change."

"I'm glad," Henry said earnestly, leaning in to kiss him again. 

***

The next morning, while Henry was in the bathroom, the doorbell rang. Alex opened the door to reveal Bruno, holding up a suit cover with a sour look on his face. Alex's eyes narrowed. 

"Your outfit for today, Mr Claremont-Diaz," he said. "I hope you will utilise this opportunity to reconsider your stance on your own charity projects. There are a lot of perfectly acceptable research funds -"

Alex took the cover from him and slammed the door in his face. Then, he proceeded to discard the approved outfit onto the living room couch, cover unopened, and walked into the bedroom to choose his own clothes. 

When Henry stepped out of the bathroom to find Alex dressed in a white shirt, a grey waistcoat and brown chinos, his grin was as wide and genuine as Alex hadn't seen it in weeks. 

"Bruno didn't choose  _ that,"  _ he deadpanned, laughter bubbling out of him, and Alex couldn't help but smile. 

"You want a rebel husband, well, here he is," Alex shrugged, gesturing to himself. "I hope you're satisfied."

"Very," Henry emphasised, crossing the distance between them to pull him into an urgent kiss. Alex melted into it with a sigh.

***

The cancer ward had always been Henry's baby, of course. While Henry revelled in the opportunity to brighten up the children’s days, Alex often came out of it wrung out and feeling hollow - caring too much about things that weren't in his power to change. He knew Henry had meant well with his suggestion, though, so he tried to keep his thoughts in check and his focus on the kids’ smiles. And they were indeed extremely excited to see him, considering the fact that he wasn't their Prince.

"What is it like?" A girl asked, her head wrapped in a pink bandana and a plastic tiara placed on top of it and her big blue eyes staring up at him as if he had all the answers in the universe. "Marrying a Prince?"

Alex smiled, deciding to give her the edited answer so as to not burst her bubble. "Just as good as you're imagining," he replied cheekily. "But that's only because I found the right Prince!"

She squealed in delight and Alex chuckled. 

"Are you going to be a Prince, too, when you marry him?" she asked. 

"No," Alex shook his head. "Actually, I'll be a Duke."

"What's a Duke?" she asked, frowning. 

Alex leaned in and whispered: "I have no idea, either."

The girl giggled. Alex grinned and pressed a finger to his lips. 

"¡Mamá, Mamá, no te vayas! ¡Quédate aquí! ¡No me dejes sola!"*

Alex's head snapped around as he heard the heart-wrenching cry of a little girl in the corridor. Her mother was trying to calm her down but the cries only got louder and louder. Alex hesitated and then, in a split-second decision, he excused himself and stepped out.

The girl seemed to be a new patient, judging from the way she still wore outside clothing. She was clutching at her mother's leg, yelling up a storm, and the nurse stood back a good distance, looking as if she was about to intervene. 

Alex stepped up, crouching down. 

"Hola, princesa," he said softly, and the girl held in, looking at him in confusion. "No llores. ¿Cómo te llamas?"**

"Lucía," she timidly answered the question about her name, tears hanging on her eyelids but not falling any longer.

"What a pretty name," Alex continued, still in Spanish. "I'm Alex. Why don't I stay with you until your Mamá returns, Lucía? I'm sure she'll be back soon."

"Are you the Prince?" she asked, looking up at her mother unsurely. Alex laughed. 

"No," he shook his head. "But I'm about to marry him. If you want to, I can introduce you later. His Spanish stinks, though."

That made Lucía giggle and her mother beamed at the two of them. 

"Thank you - um - Your Highness?" she tried.

"Oh, that's my fiancè, not me," he laughed. "No need for formalities here. Just call me Alex."

"Well, thanks a lot, Alex," she sighed. "I really need to get going to pick up her brother from kindergarten…"

"I understand," Alex smiled. "No worries, I've got her."

She smiled and bent down to kiss her daughter's hair. "See you later, my love," she breathed, and then, she left, leaving Lucía to blink after her owlishly. 

"Why don't you show me to your room?" Alex suggested, and she nodded hesitantly. 

"Why do you speak Spanish?" she asked as they started walking. 

"My Dad and his whole family are originally from Mexico," Alex explained. "Where is your family from?"

"Cuba," she breathed.

"Oh, so we're neighbours!" he joked.

"We are?" she asked, a bit confused. 

"Yes," Alex laughed. "Doubly so. I grew up in Texas." He then drew out his phone and called up Google Maps, showing her the geographic area. 

By the time Henry found him, the two of them were in deep conversation about food and family, and Henry's eyes were soft as he watched them. Alex introduced them, though Lucía was shy in English and Henry's Spanish only made her giggle, but they still made it work. 

When Lucía's mother returned, it was about time for them to leave. They stayed for a minute to receive her thanks and then they were called away by Shaan. 

"You look a bit happier," Henry pointed out, his smile small and hesitant. "Good idea?"

"Good idea," Alex agreed, returning his smile. "You're right, I think I'm too cooped up in the palace."

Henry nodded, his eyes clouding immediately. "I'm sorry," he breathed. 

"Geez, don't apologise!" Alex groaned. "It's not your fault, okay?!"

Henry nodded, though Alex wasn't sure if he really believed him.

***

The next morning, Bruno requested his presence at 10:45 AM sharp. Alex didn't quite know what to expect - he knew that, technically, Bruno was forbidden from giving him dressing-downs, but he wouldn't put it past him to find his revenge else way. 

And indeed, when Alex turned up at Bruno's office, Bruno was not sitting at his desk - he was standing at the window instead, looking out over the Kensington Gardens in a restless manner. 

"Mr Claremont-Diaz," he greeted him. "There's no need to sit down. You have an audience with Her Majesty, the Queen."

Alex froze, staring at him.  "Excuse me?" he asked. 

"You heard me right," he sighed. "She wants to speak to you. Now, I know His Royal Highness has had protocol dropped for you in quite a drastic fashion, but this does  _ not  _ apply to Her Majesty. When you meet her, it is customary to give a small neck bow. You shake her hand when she reaches out for yours. Otherwise, you do not touch her. You only speak when spoken to - please remember this, Mr Claremont-Diaz, for I know you have trouble with the concept. You don't ask the Queen any personal questions, even if you're going to marry her grandson. And last but not least, you never turn your back on her, and you only leave when given permission." He made a small pause, eyes boring into Alex's. "Have I made myself clear?" 

Alex just kept staring at him. Eventually, he asked: "Why does she want to see me?"

"She will tell you herself," Bruno avoided the question. Then, he glanced at the clock. "We have to leave."

Alex's head was spinning as he followed Bruno out of the room and down the corridors of Kensington Palace. Irrationally, he wished that Henry was here. 

Eventually, they stopped in front of a seemingly random door and Bruno stared at him long and hard before knocking. He waited for the Queen to give permission to enter and then, he stepped inside.

"Her Majesty, I brought Mr Alexander Claremont-Diaz," he announced. 

"Very well, thank you, Bruno," Alex heard her say. "He may come in."

Bruno held the door open and turned back to Alex, motioning for him to enter. Reluctantly, Alex did. 

The Queen was sitting in a luxurious armchair. On the desk, tea had been prepared. A second armchair was empty. 

Bruno closed the door behind him. 

"Alexander," Queen Mary said, getting to her feet. "Thank you for joining me on such short notice."

Alex's lips were pressed into a very thin line and he knew he was frowning. He gave her a nod - all he could force himself to give in lieu of a neck-bow. If the Queen noticed, she did not let it on. She reached out her hand, and Alex shook it reluctantly. 

"Please, have a seat," she said, gesturing to the armchair. "I'm sure you're wondering why I summoned you here today."

"A bit," Alex admitted. 

"Well, I felt that it was time we had a proper talk," the Queen began. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but the reports that reached me have been worrying."

"In regards to what?" Alex asked, his voice guarded.

The Queen sighed, picking up her cup and drinking. Alex waited impatiently.

"Bruno told me about your outing with Henry yesterday," she said, at last. "First, you show up uninvited, then, you reject the royal dress code, and then you spend half the day chatting with a child in Spanish. Really, Alexander, what were you thinking?"

Alex's face hardened. "I only went along because Henry invited me," Alex ground out. "I  _ specifically  _ asked him whether it was really okay."

"My grandson wouldn't have felt the need to ask you along if you would just make up your mind about your own charities," she replied, her tone rather sour.

"I  _ have _ made up my mind," Alex pointed out. "I just keep getting rejected."

The Queen set down her cup again, her eyes narrowed. "Let me make one thing very clear, Alexander," she said. "You are going to be British Royalty, and you are to behave as such. You can't act out as a Mexican-American. It's not the part that people expect from you."

"It's who I am!" Alex reminded her, getting heated now. "You can't change my identity!"

"This wedding will do exactly that and you know it," she told him impatiently. "Don't be silly. You know how this works. I thought your mother was a politician?"

"My mother never tried to compromise who I was," Alex snapped. "That's a speciality of the Crown."

The Queen glared at him, and if there had been any pretence of pleasantness before, it was definitely gone now. 

"This is what you're marrying into," she told him, without compassion. "We were under the impression that, after four years of relationship, you would be clear on the terms of this arrangement. But apparently, Henry has shielded you from the reality of the life you are going to be leading. Ever since you arrived here, you have acted in a manner that is selfish, petulant and unfit for the position you are going to inhabit."

Alex just stared at her, unable to find any words. His mind was completely blank. 

"I require you to make up your mind, Alexander, and if you decide that this wedding is really what you want, I need you to take the following steps with immediate effect." She paused, maybe to see whether Alex was following, and continued: "One, you will announce your intention to become a British citizen. You will promise to hand over your American passport as soon as you get your British one and commit to a life in the service of the Crown.”

“I will  _ not _ do that,” Alex shook his head.

“I wasn’t finished,” the Queen said coldly. “Do not interrupt me. Furthermore, you will convert to the Church of England. This will appease the public and the Anglican Church enough to have the wedding at Westminster. It will also set you on the only correct path as a member of the Royal Family. The time for your dilly-dally is over, Alexander.”

Alex stared at her, long and hard. Then, he got to his feet. 

“There’s no way I’m doing any of that,” he told her, and his voice was shaking now. “I’m not going to sign myself away to you like that. I’m still my own person, and I will remain so.”

“With your marriage, you will become royalty,” the Queen told him, clearly exasperated. “You will  _ not _ be your own person anymore. When will you understand that?!”

“Never,” Alex replied, straight to the point. “I’m not going to bend to your will, no matter how hard you try.”

And with that, Alex very decisively turned his back on the Queen of England and stormed out of the room.

***

By the time Alex reached Nottingham Cottage, he was a complete mess. He was trembling from head to toe, tears were blurring his vision, and he felt like he couldn’t fucking  _ breathe. _

He needed to get out of here. It was all too much. 

David had trotted up to him and was now putting his little feet up on Alex’s legs, whining. Alex only noticed it when he almost ran into him, and then he felt even worse and bent down to let the beagle nudge his face. He pet him shakily.

One hand on the dog, Alex clumsily pulled his phone from his pocket. He went through his contacts until he found the name he was looking for and pressed the ‘Call’ button, raising the device to his ear.

“Hello? Alex?” the familiar voice at the end of the line greeted him.

“Shaan?” Alex said, his voice trembling. “I need you to do me a favour. Can you get me in contact with someone who can arrange a flight to NYC, as soon as possible?”

There was a long pause. Then, he asked: “Did something happen, Alex?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Alex shook his head, though Shaan couldn’t see it. His voice was thin. “Just give me a name or a number, or I swear I’ll book the next flight from Heathrow and call a taxi.”

“Shall I go interrupt Henry’s meeting and ask him to call you?” Shaan suggested tentatively. “This sounds like a discussion you should have with him rather than -”

“No!” Alex cut him off sharply. “Don’t involve Henry!” His voice cracked.

Shaan was silent again. Then, he said: “Don’t go anywhere, Alex. I’ll be there in ten minutes, okay? I assume you’re at the Cottage?”

“Yes,” Alex sighed. David whimpered, licking his cheek. 

“Okay,” Shaan said. “Just let me find someone to take over my shift here, and I’ll be there.”

The line went dead, and Alex sighed, putting his phone down. He pressed his face into David’s fur, trying to take deep, calming breaths. It didn’t help.

***

By the time Shaan arrived at the Cottage, Alex was already packing. 

“All right,” Shaan said slowly, observing him as if he was a wild animal that might attack at any moment. “Is this you getting cold feet?” 

“No!” Alex hissed, a bit too sharp. “I just need to get away for a while.”

“I see,” Shaan nodded. “And why exactly can’t that wait until Henry returned?”

“Because I’m losing it  _ right now _ , and I need to leave before I do or say something I regret,” Alex snapped. 

“You can’t just leave without saying anything to Henry,” Shaan reasoned. “His head will run wild.”

“I’ll leave him a message,” Alex promised. “I’ll make it clear it’s not about him. But I just - I need to leave.”

Shaan stared at him, long and hard. Then, he sighed, taking out his phone. “Fine,” he gave in. “I’ll arrange one of the private machines for you. But promise me you’ll notify Henry!”

“I will,” Alex nodded, stuffing his toiletries into his bag. “Just please, hurry!”

Shaan nodded, leaving the room to make his call. 

Shaan ended up accompanying him to the private airstrip, all the time throwing him calculating looks. When they had almost reached their destination, he asked Alex: “Did you call Henry yet?”

Alex sighed, pulling out his phone. He stared at it for a moment, contemplating, then he opened their chat window and pressed the ‘Voice Record’ button. “Sweetheart? It’s me. Sorry, I have to get away for a while,” he said softly. “I swear it’s got nothing to do with you. The wedding is still on. I just - need some time to recalibrate. It’s a bit too much at the moment. Please, don’t worry. I love you.”

He took his finger off the button, watching as the voice message appeared in their chat history - unread, as Henry was still in his meeting. Alex immediately turned off his phone, deciding he wasn’t ready to deal with Henry’s enquiries, should he see the message and call him. 

Much to his surprise, Shaan followed him onto the plane once they arrived at the airstrip. 

“What are you doing?” Alex frowned. “You work for Henry, not for me.”

“You didn’t think I’d let you fly all the way to New York on your own, in this state?” Shaan countered, raising his eyebrows. “Henry would have my head. Besides, he’s in good hands. I left him with a capable colleague. You’re a charge of ours now, too.”

Alex frowned, dropping into his seat. “You really don’t need to babysit me,” he muttered. “I’d actually enjoy some privacy.”

“You can have all the privacy you want,” Shaan assured him. “But I’m staying with you. End of discussion.”

Alex sighed. Shaan took a seat across the plane, true to his word, giving him some space. 

Alex stared out of the window as the plane took off. As London became smaller and smaller underneath them, his chest felt tight and his eyes burned with fresh tears. 

He’d really wanted to be able to _do_ this for Henry. It hadn’t even been three months and there he was, already fleeing the country. He just… he hadn’t thought it would be this hard. He hadn’t thought he’d feel this impotent - this  _ helpless. _

He pressed his face into the back of his hand, trying to hide the fact that he was crying. Shaan, though, was polite enough to look the other way, letting Alex have his moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations from Spanish:
> 
> *Mum, Mum, don't go! Stay here! Don't leave me alone!
> 
> **Hello, princess. Don't cry. What's your name?


	7. Give 'Em Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! 
> 
> Had a few minutes and was surprised to realise that my class prep for the next week(s) was done *coughs*, so in an attempt at being productive, I thought I'd update X'D 
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this chapter! Pretty excited about it :D

As soon as Alex touched down in NYC, he turned on his phone again. There were a dozen notifications, missed calls and messages from Henry. 

_What happened? Why did you leave?_

_Where are you?_

_Are you okay?_

_[Voice Message 1:53]_

_Alex, please call me when you land. I’m freaking out._

He was just staring at the last message, his fingers lingering above the screen in hesitation before a call flashed up on the display - Henry. He must have set up a notification for when Alex’s phone would be turning on again.

Alex’s gulped and rejected the call. He immediately felt bad about it, but he couldn’t face Henry right now. He wasn’t ready.

 _Sweetheart,_ a message came, a few seconds later, _please pick up your phone, I’m begging you. I need to talk to you._

Henry called again. This time, Alex let it go to voicemail. When it stopped ringing, he pulled up June’s contact and dialled.

“Alex,” she greeted him cheerfully. “How are things over there?”

“Bug,” Alex breathed, his voice paper-thin. “Are you home?”

“I am,” she confirmed, immediately alert. “Why?”

“Can I come over?” he asked. “I’m in New York.”

“What happened?”

“I’ll explain when I’m there. Just… I need to see you.”

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome here.”

“Thanks,” Alex breathed. “I’ll head over now. Might be an hour or so?”

“Okay,” June said. “You’ve got someone taking you, right?”

“Shaan is with me.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you,” Alex breathed and hung up. He turned to Shaan, who had walked up to his side. “Can you take me to June’s?”

“Of course,” Shaan nodded. He hesitated. “Henry has been trying to contact me. Am I allowed to tell him where you are?”

Alex sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. “Yes,” he whispered. “Just - I’m not ready to speak to him right now. But you can tell him I’m at June’s, and I’m safe.”

“Very well,” Shaan nodded, gesturing down the aisle towards the exit of the plane. “Shall we?”

Alex nodded, getting to his feet.

***

June wrapped him up in a tight embrace as soon as she got a hold of him, and Alex clung to her, grateful to have his sister physically back in front of him. He’d missed her _so much._ He hadn’t even realised how alone he’d felt at Kensington until he saw her again.

“Alex, what’s wrong?” she breathed, stepping back to scan his face. “Did you and Henry fight?”

“No,” Alex shook his head. His eyes were stinging again, and he felt weak and stupid. “No, I just - I needed to get out. It was… too much.”

“Come in and sit down,” she muttered, leading him towards her comfy sofa, leaving his bag at the door. Alex relished in the modern simplicity of her apartment. It was so unlike the antique, posh style in which the Cottage was decorated. They had wanted to redecorate, but they had never gotten around to it. 

“Tell me what happened,” June breathed, sidling up to him and regarding him with a worried expression. 

Alex took a shaky breath, wondering where to start. “Well,” he murmured. “I kind of yelled at the Queen?”

June bit her lip. Then she offered: “Well, she probably deserved it?” Alex cracked a smile, but at the same time, his eyes filled with fresh tears. “Hey,” June whispered, sounding stressed. “What did she say to you?”

“What do you think?” Alex scoffed. “That I should stop acting like a child and give in to their demands.” He took a shaky breath and burrowed his face in his hands. “I’m so tired, June,” he confessed. “They’ve all ganged up against me and I just - I can’t.”

“Okay, please calm down and start at the beginning,” June muttered, reaching out to brush back his hair. “I’m sure the situation is not actually as desperate as you make it out in your head right now. Just - let us go over it together, okay?”

And so, Alex talked. He told June about the charity discussion, and what Bruno had said to him - _why_ they were rejecting his choices. Her face was grim but she did not interrupt him, and Alex was grateful as he moved on, talking about the wedding planning, sketching out the process of finding the design for Henry’s suit, only to have it rejected and fighting for it since. Finally, he landed on his visit to the cancer ward with Henry, and his subsequent conversation with the Queen - the words she had thrown at him, and everything she had demanded of him. By the time he was done, he had talked himself into a frenzy, crying openly but not caring - this was June, and she had seen him at his worst before. He knew if anyone wouldn’t judge, it was her. 

June listened till the very end, and when Alex was done, she was silent for a long moment, processing the information. Then, she asked: “Where was Henry through all of this? Why didn’t he support you?”

Alex didn’t meet her eyes. “Because I didn’t tell him this was happening.”

June sighed deeply. “Oh, Alex,” she shook her head, disapproving now. “Why do you make things so difficult on yourself?”

“I couldn’t tell him,” Alex shook his head. “I just - I didn’t want to worry him, or disappoint him -”

“Who says he’d have been disappointed?” June injected. “I’m pretty sure he’d be mad as a hatter if he knew this has been happening. Hell, _I_ want to go to Kensington and fight his grandmother. I can’t imagine how angry Henry will be.”

“But I’m supposed to be able to do this _on my own!”_ Alex burst out. “I can’t always rely on Henry for help!”

“Alex, you can’t dismantle centuries of bigotry single-handedly,” June said reasonably. “You’re bound to fail. Look how hard Henry crashed all these years before you came into his life.”

And that _was_ a good point, Alex had to admit. Alex stared at his hands, processing this, and June sighed. Her phone had started buzzing, and she picked it up, glancing at it before looking up at Alex.

“It’s Henry,” she said softly. “Have you talked to him before you took off? Does he know where you are?” 

“He knows I’m here,” Alex replied, his voice small. “Shaan told him. And I left him a message.”

“Can I take this?” she asked with a sigh. “I feel bad for him.”

Alex shrugged, and June pressed the green button and raised the phone to her ear. 

“Henry? Hi. Yes, he’s here. He’s… Look, I’m not going to lie, he’s a bit of a mess. There was a run-in with your grandmother and it set him off. It’s got nothing to do with you, though.” She paused, and Alex could distantly hear Henry’s voice over the line, sounding panicked and rushed. “It’s better if he tells you that himself, I think, but maybe let him calm down for a bit… That’s good, I think that’s the best thing you can do right now. I’m sorry I can’t be more of a help, but I promise he’s not running from _you_ , per se. Right. See you soon. Have a safe flight.”

Alex’s head snapped up as June ended the call, confused. “What?” he asked, his voice scratchy and raw from the tears.

“Henry’s on the plane,” she shrugged. “As soon as he got the call from Shaan, he had his own flight arranged. He’ll be here in a couple of hours.”

“Oh,” Alex breathed. 

“You didn’t really think you could run from him for long, could you?” June told him with a smile. “You made him a fighter, dumbass. He’s not going to just let you leave.”

“I wasn’t going to leave,” Alex muttered.

“He doesn’t know that,” June argued. “He might not have wanted to take the chance.”

Alex didn’t answer, and June nudged him, getting to her feet. “When did you last eat?” she asked. “Do you want pizza? I’ll order pizza.”

Alex just watched as she grabbed her tablet and pulled up the menu, wondering how he was supposed to face Henry in a couple of hours.

He did not feel ready. He felt wrung out and fragile, and he just wanted to hide away for a couple of days and not talk to anyone.

But June was right. That wasn’t fair to Henry, and his fiancé was currently on a flight across the Atlantic to chase after him. He deserved the truth. 

Alex just wished the truth didn’t feel like something shameful, like a defeat.

***

Alex awoke with a start when he heard dulled voices from the hallway.

“He fell asleep an hour ago when we were watching TV.”

“No wonder. It’s almost 5 AM in London. He must be dead tired.”

“How about you? You look like hell, Henry.”

“I feel like it, too. I just - I can’t lose him, June.”

“You won’t lose him, Henry. He never meant to leave you.”

“Okay, I - okay. I just - I need to see him. I think I’ll feel better when I do.”

“I’ll leave you two alone. I called up Nora, I’m crashing with her. Cash is taking me.”

“You sure, June? It’s past 1 AM.”

“Very sure. This is between you and him. Just talk it out and drill it into his head that he doesn’t have to do everything by himself, alright?”

“I’ll try. Thank you, June.”

“Of course. Goodnight, Henry.”

“Goodnight.”

The front door opened completely to reveal Henry; June did not return with him. Henry left his trunk at the door and gently closed it behind him. Then, he glanced towards the sofa, startling visibly when he found Alex staring at him.

“You’re awake,” Henry mumbled.

“Just woke,” Alex shrugged. Then, he added: “You didn’t need to come. I wasn’t going to leave you.”

“Of course, I was going to go after you!” Henry shook his head, crossing the distance between them to sit next to Alex. He scanned Alex's face, the worry clear as day even through the exhaustion. “What did she say to you?” he demanded. 

Alex sighed, closing his eyes. He was so tired. He wasn’t sure he was ready for this conversation right now.

“Alex,” Henry insisted, reaching out to cup his cheek. “ _What_ did she say?”

“A lot of stuff,” Alex muttered. 

“Can you specify that?” Henry prodded. When Alex didn’t respond, he continued, a bit desperate now: “Sweetheart, you can _talk_ to me! You know I’m always on your side, right? So let’s talk about this, and we’ll figure it out together!”

“I know you’re on my side,” Alex breathed. “That’s not it.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Henry asked. 

“I don’t want to disappoint you, okay?!” Alex burst out, his filter diminished due to his exhaustion. 

“Why would you disappoint me?” Henry asked, his eyes wide.

“Because I’m supposed to be able to handle this!” Alex snapped. “Three fucking months and I’m already having a fucking meltdown! I can’t get anything done on my own over there, and now your grandma’s given me a fucking ultimatum for misbehaving -”

“Okay, wait,” Henry halted him, reaching out to hold his face with both hands now. The look in his blue eyes was intense when he continued: “One, I _never_ even implied that you were supposed to be able to handle palace life without complaint, or without help! You _should_ ask for help when things get rough, Alex! I won’t think less of you, and I won’t be disappointed!” Alex’s throat felt tight at Henry’s words, but before he could open his mouth to argue, Henry had already pushed on: “And two, what is that about an ultimatum and misbehaving?!”

“Yeah, well,” Alex muttered, his voice cracking. “So, basically, your grandmother thinks I’m an immature brat who tries to rock the boat too much.” 

Henry stared at him, his jaw clenching. “That’s what she said?” he asked, his voice hard. 

“In other words,” Alex shrugged. “I think hers were ‘selfish, petulant,’-”

“Oh my God,” Henry shook his head, removing one hand from Alex’s cheek to run it through his own hair. He took a deep breath before he caught Alex’s eyes again: “And on what _exactly_ does she base those reprimands?” he asked, his tone icy. 

“Well,” Alex muttered. His voice caught in his throat. “There is the day in the cancer ward -”

“What the heck was wrong with that?!” Henry asked, his voice rising. “ _I_ invited you, and the kids loved it!”

“Yes, but your grandmother doesn’t care,” Alex muttered. “To her, I turned up uninvited, ‘rejecting Royal Dress Code’ and, what was it? Oh, yes, I spoke Spanish most of the time.”

“What the - was she racist towards you?” Henry asked, catching on real fast. 

“Henry,” Alex sighed, feeling so bone-dead tired, “why did _you_ think I don’t have a charity yet?”

Henry’s face turned murderous. He got to his feet jerkily and started to pace. Alex watched him impassively. 

“So, they, what, make your life difficult because you’re not a white noble like them?!” he burst out. 

“They want to whitewash me, is what they want,” Alex told him with a shrug. “Make the public forget where I come from. And that won’t happen when I take up Anti-Racism projects or help children of immigrant families get an education.”

Henry was balling his fists so tightly it had to hurt. Alex wondered if he’d ever seen him this angry. 

“That’s not happening,” Henry ground out eventually. “Not under my watch.”

“It’s already happening,” Alex pointed out, and his eyes were stinging again. “Your grandmother said I had to make up my mind. If I want to go through with this wedding, I need to _act_ _the part_. That means giving in to the demands of the Anglican Church and stop being such a pain in her royal arse and -”

“You’re not doing _any_ of that!” Henry shouted, and Alex flinched at the sudden volume of his voice. “She has _no right_ to demand that of you, do you hear me?! It’s not happening! If this is how she wants to play this game, we’re both out, end of story!”

Alex looked up at him, blinking rapidly. “What do you mean?” he muttered.

“I’ll abdicate,” Henry called. “I’m not going to sit back and let my grandmother _insult you_ and put you in a fucking palace-shaped _cage_ , Alex! That was never part of the deal, and I’m not going along with it!”

“You can’t abdicate,” Alex whispered, taken completely off-guard. “Not for _me._ I don’t _want_ to be the reason you give up your birthright!”

“ _You’re_ not the reason, Alex, don’t you see?” Henry argued. “If she refuses to accept both of us the way we are, then it’s _her_ who forces me to do this, not you! Anyway, you’re much more important to me than this stupid title!” He sat back on the sofa again, reaching out to cradle Alex’s face again. “I’m not letting this happen to you,” he repeated, determination on his face. “To _us._ So I’m going to give her a good piece of my mind, and if she can’t deal with that, then we’ll have to leave. We’ll return to the brownstone, I’ll keep running the shelters with Pez, and you start your political career. We don’t need the Crown for any of that. They need _us_ , Alex, not the other way around.”

Alex stared at him, his eyes swimming in tears. “When have you become so - _badass?”_ Alex whispered. “When we met, you were so reluctant to piss off your grandma, and now -”

“Someone changed my perspective,” Henry shrugged, smiling, a bit sheepishly. “I got out of that gilded cage. I’ve lived with you for four years. And I swore to myself when I proposed to you that I would protect you from the Crown. I won’t let them break you down. And, bloody hell, I fucked up there, but please, let me keep trying, okay? I love you,” Henry leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead, then leaned their heads together. “I love you more than anything, Alex, just the way you are. With your fire and your passion and everything my grandmother disapproves of. And I won’t compromise on any of it. So either, she backs down, or we’re out.”

Alex squirmed to press his face against Henry’s throat, letting the other man envelop him in his arms as the succumbed to his tears once again. “I’m sorry for keeping secrets from you,” Alex brought out, with some difficulty. “I’m sorry for taking off like that.”

“It’s okay,” Henry whispered, holding him close and kissing his hair. “You were unhappy. I could tell. I just didn’t know what to do to make it better.”

“I can’t live like this,” Alex admitted. “Stuck at home, and told what to wear or what to say every time I step foot out of the door. Stuck on a project where all my input gets shut down. Did you know they rejected the design for your wedding suit? I was trying so _hard_ to push it through, and they’re not backing away an _inch_ -”

“Selfish and petulant, isn’t that what she said?” Henry muttered, holding him tighter. “Here you are, planning _our_ wedding, fighting for _my_ wedding suit… Gosh, I’m so sorry, love. I promise, things are going to change from now on. One way or another.”

Instead of answering, Alex just held onto Henry a little tighter, allowing himself to accept his comfort. It felt like a weight off his shoulders, having it all out in the open. He’d never doubted that Henry would be on his side, but still, it was a relief to have the physical proof of it wrapped around him like this.

June had been right. He kept making his life more difficult on himself than it had to be.

***

Alex had barely drifted off, Henry having moved them to June’s bed, when he started awake again. He noticed immediately that the bed was empty. The bedroom door was closed, but he could still hear Henry talk in the other room.

It seemed like he was on the phone.

“I swear, Mum, as soon as I’m back up there I’m going to raise heaven and hell! Grandma won’t know what bloody hit her! She crossed a line this time, and I’m not that quiet, self-destructive boy anymore who’ll take this lying down - if she goes for Alex, I’ll go for her, and I don’t fucking care about the consequences.” There was a short pause, and footsteps, indicating that Henry was pacing. Then, Henry continued: “No, Mum, I’m not going to calm down, or wait! I waited too long already! This went too far! She obviously won’t listen to reason, so she’s got to deal with -” He cut himself off again, before bursting out: “ _Of course, I’m angry_ ! I’m fucking furious! They kept telling Alex he can’t have the charity of his choice because he’s not white! I want people _fired_ for this! Why is Bruno still allowed to work for us?! This is an outrage!” A pause, then: “If people can deal with me running LGBTQ shelters, they sure as hell can deal with Alex campaigning against discrimination and collecting funds for immigrant children! They’re all fucking _frauds,_ is what they are! _Yes_ , I _know_ this is not your fault, Mum, I just - I can’t stand by and let this happen any longer!”

This time, the silence dragged on longer. In the end, Henry took a shaky breath, and, in a considerably calmer voice, replied: “Fine, two days. I’ll give you two days to put out the worst of the fires. But then I’m coming up there, and I don’t care if Grandma is barricading herself in, I am giving her an earful, and if she still won’t give in, that’s it, Alex and I are out. She can play happy family with Philip, Martha and Jamie, what is it to me?” A beat, then: “Yes, yes. Okay. Two days. Fine. I love you, too. Say hi to Bea. Yes, I’ll tell him in the morning. Bye, Mum.”

With a sigh, Henry fell silent. Then, footsteps approached the door and it opened again, Henry slipping back into the room and underneath the covers. He made a face when he noticed that Alex was awake. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. “Too loud?”

“Don’t worry,” Alex shrugged. “Seemed important.”

“Mum will try to smash some sense into Grandma’s head before I arrive,” Henry muttered, his tone sour. “I agreed to give her two days. Then her time is up.”

“So two days before we need to go back?” Alex asked softly.

“Oh, no,” Henry said immediately. “ _You’re_ staying here till this is settled. I won’t have you around for this conversation. It’s going to be ugly.”

“You sure?” Alex frowned. “It’s about me, after all. I should probably -”

“No, it’s about more than you,” Henry shook his head. “This is about my grandmother and the way things in this family are handled, and you’re just in the middle of it. I don’t want you to get hurt any more than you already have. I’ll contact you when things are settled - either when it’s safe to come back, or, when worst comes to worst, I’ll meet you in New York to move back into the brownstone with you.”

Alex sighed. “I thought we were past existential crises in the monarchy caused by our relationship in 2020,” he muttered. “And yet, here we are again.”

“This is not _our_ fault, Alex,” Henry insisted. “It’s her who won’t back down on her outdated worldviews. She’s reaping the rewards for that now.”

With a sigh, Alex moved closer to fit himself against Henry. He opened his arms willingly, letting Alex rest against him.

“Sleep,” Henry whispered. “I won’t wake you up this time, I promise.”

Alex hummed, closing his eyes, gone to the world in a matter of seconds.

***

Alex and Henry spent two quiet days together back at their brownstone, and it felt like balm to Alex's soul. They met up with June and Nora for lunch; they took a walk through Central Park and got photographed kissing, the picture promptly getting plastered all over the media, for it had been the first private sighting of them since their move to London; they ate takeaway in front of the TV and got coffee from the little cafe around the corner in the morning. It all felt so blissfully _normal_ that Alex felt stupidly emotional about it. Late afternoon of the second day, Henry took off to catch his flight to London. "I want to be there in the morning, UK time," he explained as he pressed a kiss to Alex's forehead. "I asked Mum to arrange a meeting with Grandma for after I arrived. I want to get this over with."

Alex had no idea what the state of things was at Kensington. He knew that Catherine was on the offensive and that she was in constant contact with her son, but Henry never shared anything his mother reported. "I'll tell you the end result," he'd promised. "No need for you to stress over every dirty battle."

And so, as a distraction from Henry's absence and the lack of news, Alex and Shaan drove out to DC the day after Henry was gone - Shaan to spend time with his wife and Alex to see his mother. 

"I didn't expect to see you back here so early, sugar," Ellen Claremont told him in greeting, and Alex shrugged as he let himself be pulled into a hug. "What happened? You fought some motherfuckers at Clarence House?"

"Try the Queen," Alex muttered, his voice dark. 

"Do I need to run interference?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, and Alex laughed. 

"No," he shook his head. "This is actual Royal Family business. Though I think Henry is currently over there firing people."

"That bad, huh?" his mother asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Imagine the worst sort of homophobic, racist Republican bastards," Alex sighed. "And they're all teaming up against you and making sure you don't get shit done."

"Sounds like my life," she grinned, and Alex snorted. 

"Yes, but in your case, they don't have any power to decide matters regarding your private life."

"Right," Ellen said, frowning now. "No Clarence House personnel should have such power over you, either, though."

"The Queen of England does, if I'm marrying her grandson," Alex rolled his eyes. 

Ellen paused, considering. "I see," she frowned. "Can I ask what exactly she-"

"You don't want to know, Mum," Alex sighed. "Not while you're still president, believe me."

Ellen made a face before nodding. "You're probably right," she muttered. "Diplomacy and all. Wouldn't do to be out for the blood of another country's Queen."

"Nope," Alex agreed. "Plus, Henry and Catherine are on it. I'm not sure what they are doing, but Henry is so pissed, he's threatening to abdicate, so -"

"Woah," Ellen said, her eyes widening. "Okay, she must have been a right ass!"

"Pretty much," Alex chuckled, without humour. "I really don't want him to abdicate but -" he sighed, biting his lip. "I also don't think I can live like this any longer."

Ellen nodded. "Sometimes, there is no ideal solution," she agreed. "But sugar, if he makes the decision, it's _his_ and his alone. You shouldn't blame yourself for it."

Alex sighed and nodded. Ellen smiled at him. "You two are always going to be a symbol for something. It doesn't matter whether Henry has a title or not," she reminded him. "You stand for something bigger than that, and Henry knows that. You're not still the most universally beloved member of the first family for nothing, Alex, even after a sex-scandal and leaving the States to marry a foreign prince."

Alex quirked a smile at that. "Can you send my polling stats to Clarence House?" he joked.

Ellen laughed, nudging him in the shoulder. 

***

Henry called the next day, while he was having lunch with Rafael Luna and his Dad. 

"What's the situation over there?" Alex asked, dread settling in the pit of his stomach. "Do I need to book you a flight to NYC?"

"No," Henry chuckled, audibly hesitating. "Are you sitting down?"

"I am," Alex frowned, playing with the leftover noodles in his Ramen. "Don't leave me hanging, babe!"

"So… Mum is going to take over the throne at the end of the year."

Alex gaped. His Dad and Luna gave him curious looks. 

"You're fucking with me!" he accused.

"I'm not," Henry swore. "She's unofficially taking over with immediate effect, but officially, the ceremony will be in December."

"I - what?" Alex asked, brain shot.

"So, here's the thing," Henry explained. "Apparently, Mum tried to talk some sense into her before I arrived, but there was no getting through to her. So when we came face to face, hell broke loose because I'd had two days of anger bubbling up inside of me and it all burst out and, despite my mother's warnings, she still seemed unprepared. I think she wasn't ready to see that I'm actually going to stand up for myself this time. So I ended up exploding and telling her that, if she wasn't going to treat you with the appropriate respect, we were going to leave."

"I'm sure that went over well," Alex commented.

"Oh, we completely butted heads, of course," Henry agreed. "It was a disaster. I was ready to pack our bags and leave. But Mum and Bea convinced me to stay, to keep trying. So today, Mum called in a family meeting for damage control - including Bea and Philip. Philip, of course, was murderous, but I didn't care. I stood my ground. The tides turned, though, when Bea threatened to abdicate with me."

"She didn't," Alex gasped. 

"She did," Henry confirmed, and there was glee in his tone. "Mum lost it then and there. She told Grandma that her stubbornness was destroying the family and that she was not going to sit by and let it happen. That she had two choices: Either, she stepped back with immediate effect and left them all in peace, or Mum was going to publicly go up against her and that would become nasty. Predictably, Grandma chose the option that would sully the Crown's reputation least. Also, I think the fact that both me and Bea were threatening to abdicate scared her quite a bit."

Alex sat, open-mouthed, processing this. "I can't believe that happened," Alex breathed.

"It did," Henry said, and Alex could hear the soft smile in his voice. "I'm sorry about what you had to go through for us to get here, but it's over now. You can come back. Things will change, I promise. You can have your charity. You will get a new middle man to work with. Clarence House will get a good speaking-to from me and Mum. There will be no gilded cage anymore, I swear."

Alex gulped against the sudden lump in his throat. "Thank you," he whispered. "I'll come back tomorrow."

"Take your time," Henry said. "Go back to New York, say goodbye to your family and Nora… I want you to be okay when you get here."

"I love you," Alex breathed. 

"Love you, too," Henry said. "See you soon."

"See you."

Alex hung up to find Luna and his Dad smiling at him. 

"Henry gave 'em hell, huh?" Oscar asked, startling a laugh out of Alex.

"Pretty much, yeah," Alex nodded, smirking. 

"Cheers to that," Luna said, raising his glass, and they all toasted. 


	8. Wedding Planning - Take 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I'm back with the new chapter - it's a bit of a filler, so it's a short selection of sneak peeks into Alex's new, changed reality at Kensington. I promise things will pick up a bit again from the next chapter on, as I plan to jump ahead in time. Until then, I hope you'll enjoy this :D

Henry was waiting for him at the private airstrip when Alex arrived, whisking him into a movie-worthy kiss. 

"Well, this is the first time I get a welcoming committee like this," Alex grinned, wrapping his arms around Henry's shoulders. "Are you going to spoil me now?"

"Shamelessly," Henry confirmed, his blue eyes twinkling in mischief. "You won't know what hit you."

"Ohhh, exciting," Alex breathed, leaning in to kiss him again, more softly this time. 

At the palace, they made a turn right for the Cottage, Henry assuring him that he didn't need to face Clarence House and his new 'Bruno' until tomorrow. 

"So, you got him fired?" Alex asked as they entered their house and he was promptly jumped on by David, remembering how fired up Henry had been about Bruno's figuratively rolling head.

Henry's expression turned sour. "Mum insisted that it was better to keep him on," he grumbled. "Seeing how long he's worked for the Crown and how impeccable his report is. Plus, it won't be long until he retires. He can spend his remaining days working for Grandma, she says. She promised he won't come near us again."

"Politics," Alex shrugged, patting David's excited head. "You gotta do what you gotta do."

"I hate it," Henry grumbled, his expression dark. "He should have been fired."

"Sweetheart," Alex sighed, getting to his feet and facing him. "This is my life, okay? And that's how it's always going to be. I may be the First Son now and soon a member of the Royal Family, but there will always be people who'll see my skin colour first, and you won't always get justice for everyone who discriminates me for it."

"Well, these things shouldn't happen anymore!" Henry ranted. "It's 2024, for God's sake!"

"It's always going to happen, baby," Alex sighed. "You just - and I don't mean this in a bad way - you were never confronted with it. You're white and rich, and you grew up sheltered. You didn't go to public school in Texas where drunk white men yelled at you on the way to class to get back to Mexico where you belong. Your experiences are different. And that's why it's so important that people like me speak up. That's why I wanted to choose this as a charity."

"And you'll get it," Henry promised him, reaching out to pull him into a tight embrace. "We  _ need  _ this, as much as you do, and anyone who says otherwise is a big fat liar. I mean, hell, this sort of racism is so deeply rooted in British society… we basically _spread_ it through the world, with imperialism and slavery! It’s time the Royal Family of all people sets a good example."

Alex smiled against Henry's throat and held on a little tighter. 

They were visited by Catherine and Bea a bit later, and Bea hugged him so tight that Alex felt breathless. 

"You're a tosser," she told him, sounding a bit choked. "Next time, you tell us what's happening  _ straight away,  _ do you hear me?! No running off to the States anymore, unless it's with my brother."

"Got it," Alex smiled. "Sorry."

"No, we're sorry," Catherine sighed. "We should have noticed. We should have  _ asked,  _ not just assumed you'd automatically be okay. That was our mistake, and we're going to make up for it now, Alex. Under my reign, things will be different, I promise."

Alex grinned at her. "I'm looking forward to it," he said earnestly. 

She smiled back at him.

The two of them spent the rest of their day curled up on the couch, basking in the peacefulness of the moment and recharging the batteries. 

"So, tomorrow, things start up again?" Alex checked. 

"Yup," Henry nodded. "But don't worry, I think you'll like the person we chose for you to work with this time."

"I'll believe that when I see it," Alex sighed. 

"I'm very positive," Henry shrugged, smiling. "By the way, I was thinking… Remember how we wanted to redecorate the Cottage? We got sidetracked, but I think we should tackle it."

"Oh my God, yes,  _ please _ !" Alex nodded, and they dove into a discussion about what had to go, what could stay, and how they wanted their house to look like. By the time they had formed a half-finished plan, Alex had curled into a sleepy ball on top of Henry, David spread against his own chest in turn.

"You should sleep," Henry coaxed him. "You're knackered from the flight."

"Can't move. I'm a dog bed," Alex pointed out, and Henry chuckled. He shifted, squirming carefully, somehow managing to move out from underneath Alex, who grunted in protest,  _ and _ cradling David against his chest protectively, carrying the sleeping dog over to the armchair. 

"There," he muttered. "Problem solved. Now, go brush your teeth."

Alex whined and stalled, not moving until Henry manhandled him off the couch, too. 

He had to start earning back his reputation as "little shit" somehow, after all.

***

When Alex finally came face to face with his new 'Bruno' the next morning, he did a double-take: He was faced with a tall, young woman with her tidy, black hair tied up in a customary knot, her skin brown and her features Southeast-Asian. 

"Mr Claremont-Diaz," she greeted him with a bow that was  _ definitely  _ not customary for someone of his standing, and it made him feel embarrassed. "Patricia Guinto de la Cruz. You can call me 'Trish'. I am at your service."

"Trish," Alex smiled, reaching out to shake her hand. "So nice to meet you, honestly. Please, none of the curtsies. And call me Alex."

"Are you sure?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in amusement. "I have a feeling somewhere in the palace, Bruno is screaming."

"Good," Alex said, with feeling. "That's the point."

She chuckled and gestured for Alex to take a seat, which he gladly did.

"First, Alex, I want to express my sincere apologies for how you've been treated until now. I felt ashamed and hit on a personal level when I heard about it, and I hope that I can ensure that it never happens again within the palace. If you should come across any adversity, please feel free to speak to me about it." 

"Thank you," Alex said, sending her a grateful smile. "That means a lot."

"Alex, I hope I'm not overstepping when I say this," she began, "but you're a symbol for a lot of things, and one of them is the rise of POC in this society. I know what you're doing is hard, though, so please, let me support you in any way. As you can imagine, I have a personal interest in seeing you succeed."

Alex grinned at that. "Well," he shrugged, a bit sheepish and much more confident. "Let's give those old bigots hell?"

She laughed and nodded, pulling a folder towards her. "So," she began, "I put together a list of charities supporting racial equality as well as social discrimination in the UK and the US for you to peruse. I thought that would be a good starting point. If you want to expand more internationally, like your fiancé, let me know. Also, we can still look at education funds once the ball is rolling with your first charity, so to speak."

"That sounds great," Alex told her honestly. He reached out for the folder to find a comprehensive list that he couldn't have put together better himself. He wanted to swoon.

"I also talked to Clarence House about your wedding plans, got myself caught up," she continued. "I'm so sorry they made things so difficult on you. I spoke to Ms Lindt this morning. Prince Henry's outfit is approved - in its original design, not the adjusted one."

"Really?" Alex breathed, staring at her in awe. 

"Really," she smiled. "I'm sorry it took so long. You can concentrate on other things now."

"That's the best news out of everything that's happened," Alex muttered, smiling to himself. 

Trish chuckled at that. "I'm sorry, they just kept telling me you were acting all irrational and selfish. I knew they were being horrible gits, but now I'm just laughing."

Alex grinned at her. "Don't be fooled," he warned. "I can still be a nightmare if I want to be!"

"I'm terrified," she deadpanned. Alex laughed. "Now, tell me, is there anything else I can do to make your life easier?"

Alex held in, thinking. This was the first time that someone had actually  _ asked,  _ with the intention of helping, apart from Henry or Aimee. It felt a bit alien but also really nice.

"Well, you could look over the guest list Aimee and I have been working on," he said, at last. "It's been a real bother to get through because we weren't sure who Clarence House would approve of."

"Have her mail it to me," she nodded. "I'll give you my best advice and fight your battles for you. It's what I'm here for."

Alex blinked, then laughed again. "Wow, you're sure you aren't a stress hallucination or something?" he joked. "I feel like I might have made you up."

"No worries," Trish chuckled. "Do you need me to pinch you? It's against my training, but -"

"I'm fine," Alex grinned. "If this is a hallucination, it's a good one."

"Right," she shook her head, clearly laughing at him. "So, anything else I can do?" 

"Yes, actually," Alex said, suddenly remembering. "Henry and I talked about redecorating the Cottage last night."

"Oh," she blinked, peeking up. "Interesting. You want us to go and have a look around? Show me what you want to change?" 

"Right now?" Alex asked, and she nodded. "Yes, that'd be great, actually!"

And so, they made their way across the palace grounds, chatting amicably as they did. Alex could tell that they attracted quite a few glances, from the other nobles living on the estate as well as the staff, but Alex tried to pay them no mind. He finally felt mostly comfortable in his skin, which was a first since he arrived here.

Henry was still home, which threw Alex a bit. "Shouldn't you be somewhere doing important princely stuff?" He checked and Henry rolled his eyes. 

"I took the week off, you moron," he told him fondly. "I only have the meetings with the Anglican Church, and you."

"That's… sweet," Alex said, a bit thrown. He leaned in to kiss him softly. "You didn't need to do that."

"Yes, I did," Henry insisted, smiling. Then, he looked up at Trish, who was still lingering near the entranceway, grinning at the picture they made. "Trish," he greeted her. "I trust you're taking good care of my fiancé?"

"I'll make sure he has everything he needs, Your Royal Highness," Trish nodded. 

"That's what I wanted to hear," Henry beamed. "Now, what are you two doing here?"

"We wanted to talk about the changes on Nottingham Cottage we discussed last night," Alex explained, his arm finding his way around Henry's waist. "Join us?"

"Sure," Henry nodded. "Sounds like fun."

And so they spent the rest of the morning detailing out their image of their new home to Trish while she made notes and pondered who to call. She promised to put them in contact with interior designers and consult the experts on palatial architecture and design to make sure they had the green light for everything. 

"Maybe you can go back to New York for the time we work on remodelling," she said thoughtfully. "It might still be a month or two until then but it could be a good excuse to get away for a while?"

Alex perked up at that and Henry smiled. "Sounds perfect," he nodded. 

***

"I love Trish," Aimee gushed at him the next day as she came over for lunch. From the living room, he could hear Henry chuckle. “She is a  _ dream _ to work with! She’s been in the position for, what, a couple of days? And she’s already been more efficient than Bruno in all those months!”

“I know,” Alex grinned. “I want to put her into my pocket and carry her around with me.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s taller than you,” Henry noted from the other room. “Especially in heels.”

“You know,” Alex raised his voice, “if you’re just going to listen in on us all the time, you might as well come and sit with us.”

“Yes, come join us!” Aimee agreed eagerly. “It will be nice to have both grooms at the same table, for once.”

Henry sheepishly appeared in the doorway and sat at the kitchen table with them, his hand brushing Alex’s shoulder in passing. “Okay,” he said. “Here I am. What are you discussing today?”

“The guest list and the plan for the wedding reception,” she told him eagerly. 

“Oh, that sounds like fun,” Henry noted, and Alex couldn’t quite tell if he was joking or not. He flashed him a smile. “Are we having a cake fight in memoriam?”

“I think both our families would murder us,” Alex laughed. “Not to mention Zahra.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want Zahra on my bad side,” Henry shuddered. “I’d like to survive my marriage for longer than a couple of hours, if possible.”

Alex snorted and Aimee beamed at them. “I prepared a couple of ideas for the reception,” she told them, handing Alex a list. Henry scooted closer to look at it with him. “You can choose what sounds good for you and we can work on arranging it into a schedule. Afterwards, we’ll have to get it approved by Clarence House, but with Trish on board, I’m pretty confident that this will go much more smoothly from now on.”

Alex couldn’t help but agree with her on that point. Henry’s eyes were glued to the list, and he hummed as he read. 

“This looks sort of… extensive,” he muttered after a while, looking up. “Do we really  _ need _ all of this stuff? I mean, obviously, a few things are given - the speeches, cake cutting, first dance - but anything else…”

“Henry may be a prince, but he doesn’t enjoy the attention,” Alex translated with a smile, and Henry elbowed him, though he did grin at the truth of his words. “Is there a way to keep this as simple as possible? The ceremony will already be a lot, and then there's the appearance on the balcony of Buckingham Palace…”

“Of course,” Aimee nodded eagerly. “I completely understand. This should be yours, and if you want to keep it simple, that is how it will be. Just the basics it is.” She took back the lists, marking down a few things. “You’re still set on ‘Your Song’ for your first dance?” she checked, looking up again.

“Yes,” Henry answered for them. 

“Good. Then we should have you take ballroom lessons in the near future, to rehearse.”

Henry smiled sheepishly at Alex, who tried not to roll his eyes. They both knew how much Alex hated formal dancing. 

“Right… I’ll get in contact with your families and friends about the toasts; June and Princess Beatrice will definitely need to say something, but I have a feeling Nora and Pez might want to, as well, not to mention your parents. And of course, there will be an address from you, too.”

“Naturally,” Henry nodded. 

“Do we talk about the cake?” Alex asked. 

“I don’t know,” Aimee smiled. “Do we brave the topic? I was under the impression it was sort of touchy.” When they both only chuckled, she continued: “If you want to, I can start scouting for the right bakery and cake designer and make an appointment for cake testing for you. You should start thinking about what kind of flavours you might enjoy, though. They can prepare accordingly.”

“All Henry ever eats is Jaffa cakes,” Alex muttered, making Henry look at him, affronted.

“Excuse you!” he called. “I eat other cake!”

“Every half year or so,” Alex smirked. Henry glared at him. 

“As much as I could watch you two flirt all day,” Aimee smiled, making them look back at her, “I do have a Skype call with Javier later, and we still need to go over the guest list. So…”

“Sorry,” Alex grinned. “Shoot.”

***

“Hi, there!” Bea grinned at him as Alex opened the door to the Cottage two days later. “Come have lunch with me, darling!”

“Is this you babysitting me?” Alex checked, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe to stare her down through narrowed eyes.

“What?!” she asked, affronted. “Why would you say that?! Do I need a reason to ask my practically-brother-in-law out for lunch?”

“It’s just funny that you do it on the one day this week that Henry’s out with Catherine to shout down the Anglican Church,” Alex deadpanned. “One might think you were conspiring to make sure I wasn’t left to my own devices.”

“Us? Never,” she said, a bit too innocently. “But really, Alex, there’s this lovely Taiwanese place in Soho that you’re just going to  _ love _ , I promise! You haven’t seen nearly enough of London yet!”

Alex smiled, melting in the face of Bea’s catching enthusiasm. “Don’t think I’m not onto you!” he called, pointing at her as he grabbed his jacket with the other hand. “You can’t just drag me off to nice restaurants to keep me from being alone all the time, you know!”

“Maybe not,” she agreed, smiling. “But we don’t have to let you be all isolated here, either. We can find a balance, Alex.”

And Alex shrugged because, well. She had a point. He slipped into his shoes, grabbed keys, phone and wallet and stepped out of the house. “Lead the way, Your Highness,” he teased, and she hit him lightly in the shoulder.

***

“Okay,” Alex admitted as he was happily working on his shou pa chicken, “this was a brilliant idea. 

“I told you!” she grinned. “You just need to trust me!” She herself had ordered a mapo tofu, which she had let Alex try and which he had had to admit had been delightful, as well. “So,” she asked, after a moment, “are things going better this week?”

“Oh, much,” Alex assured her. “Trish is a dream. I’m about to settle on my charity, and then, I’m finally going to have a task that gets me out of the palace again. I think that’s going to make all the difference.”

“I agree,” she nodded. “Being cooped up there does things to your head. Been there. Done that. Wouldn’t recommend.”

Alex opened his mouth to respond but then his phone went off, alerting him of an incoming call. He frowned, picking it up to see Henry’s name flashing across the display.

“Sorry, I need to take this,” he told her.

“Sure,” she smiled. “Tell him I said hi.”

Alex smiled and pressed the green button before holding the phone to his ear. “Hi baby,” he greeted him. “Everything okay?”

“More than,” Henry said, and Alex could hear in his voice that he was smiling. “You’re out with Bea?”

“Yes, you scheming bastard. She says hi.”

Henry chuckled but apparently decided to ignore the dig. Instead, he told him: “I have news.”

“Oh?” he asked, biting his lip. “Good or bad?”

“Good. We have Westminster.”

“Really?!” Alex gasped, his mouth dropping. “Just like that?”

“Yes,” Henry laughed, sounding sheepish. “Looks like once you put a future queen in the mix who makes it very clear that she’s not happy with the way her gay son and son-in-law are being discriminated, things get done much faster, even within the Anglican Church.”

“Oh my God,” Alex grinned. “What did Philip say?” 

“He tried to play nice,” Henry sighed, rolling his eyes. “Telling me how  _ happy _ he was that things were working out for us now and that he was sorry that it didn’t happen sooner. As if he hadn’t been part of the problem. Oh well. I guess it’s no use, being angry about it now. It is what it is.”

“True,” Alex breathed. “But you did it. You really came through for us, sweetheart.”

“This was my battleground,” Henry said. “It was unfair, sending you in all by yourself. But I think I made up for it now.”

“I love you,” Alex whispered.

“I love you, too,” Henry smiled. “See you later.”

“See you,” Alex returned, and they ended the call. He looked up at Bea, who was watching him expectantly. “So,” he said slowly, putting his phone down on the table again. “You can plan for Westminster, I guess?”

She beamed at him, bright and happy. “I did that all along,” she vowed, raising her cup of tea as if to toast him. Alex returned the gesture, feeling as light as he hadn’t since he’d arrived in London. 


	9. Wedding Planning - Take Three, and Other Shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I am aware that this chapter is super short and a filler. Basically, I was struggling a lot and this was as far as I could take it. Next time, I'll do a bigger jump in time and that will give me more to work with, so I hope we'll be back to standard-length and quality. In the meanwhile, I hope you'll still enjoy this :)

Alex turned to wave Malka and Sema on his way to the car, his now permanently assigned PPO Danilo close at his side, a gentle arm on his shoulder to make sure that he actually walked straight forward and didn't topple into a bush as he was likely to do unsupervised. God bless good staff. 

When he was safely sat behind the tinted windows, Alex leaned against the backrest with a sigh, sending a grin at Danilo before pulling out his phone. 

He had four messages, two from June, one from Nora and one from Trish. His other notifications were his Google notifications, telling him that Alexander Claremont-Diaz had been out "hugging refugee children and cooking with their mothers" for charity, or that he and Prince Henry had "renovated Nottingham Cottage for thousands of pounds - how much is Alex's taste going to cost the Royal Family before the wedding even takes place?"

Alex knew Henry would be furious about that last one. He had taken a closer interest to their media coverage ever since the incidents a couple of months back and was enraged to find how unequal the reporting often was compared to Philip and Martha. 

When they had renovated Amber Hall, the press had sung praises of Martha's exquisite taste and booked an exclusive behind-the-scenes report. But when they did the same, Alex was wasting royal funds. 

He sighed, pulling up June's message. The first was a link to an article. The other read:  _ 'An old friend has been reporting about your charity efforts in the UK. Great article. They love what you're doing over here, Alex! You're doing a great job 👍' _

Alex smiled at that. He'd have to read the article more carefully later.

Nora's message was less eventful, merely sharing a TikTok link with him. Trish was asking him to come by her office when he was done. 

Alex leaned towards the driver. 

"Can we go to the main building, not to the Cottage? Trish wants to see me."

"Of course, Mr Claremont-Diaz," the driver nodded. 

They were stuck in traffic for a while but about thirty minutes later, they'd made it to Kensington palace and Alex jumped out of the car, glad to stretch his legs again. He jogged into the building and up the stairs towards Trish's office, knocking perfunctorily before letting himself in. 

"Hola, mi amor," Alex greeted her with a wide smile. He had taken to overly affectionate, Spanish greetings when it came to her just because it seemed to so thoroughly throw everyone who happened to be listening. Henry thought it was hilarious. 

Trish rolled her eyes, biting down on a smile. She looked like she couldn't decide whether he was the bane of her existence or her favourite project. Coming to think of it, that was how he was often looked at, by a lot of people. 

"I'll hand you back to Bruno," she threatened. 

"You love me too much," Alex smirked. He crossed the room and took the chair across from her. "So," he said. "What did you want?"

Trish sighed, looking at him with some trepidation. "I got a bit of a ruffling by Clarence House because you still haven't done your Kidnapping Training."

At those words, Alex's eyes lit up. "Kidnapping Training?" he repeated, glee in his voice. "That sounds awfully James Bond."

"I knew you'd enjoy this," Trish sighed. "You just need to learn how to defend yourself in case someone attacks you and your PPOs aren't around. It's no big deal. Martha's done it."

"If you think you can deter my enthusiasm with the mention of Martha, you are wrong."

"It was worth a try," Trish sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I'll schedule it in, then?"

"Hell yeah!" Alex grinned. 

"Now, how was your appearance?" 

"Good," Alex told her earnestly. "I really hope the charity run at the school next week will bring in some money."

"I'm sure it will," Trish smiled before her expression turned teasing and she added: "But are you sure you're fit enough to run?"

"Excuse you!" Alex called. "I'm fit as a fiddle! And it's a kids race!"

"Right," she laughed, still teasing. "We'll see." He glared at her. "So, what are you up to for the rest of the day?"

"Meeting with Aimee and Tom about my outfit," Alex shrugged. "They said it's about done so I'm curious."

"Oh, send pictures!" Trish told him.

"Not sure you deserve them, after doubting my fitness," Alex pouted. Trish kicked him. "Ow! Okay, fine, you tyrant! Pictures it is!"

"Good! Off you go! Shoo!" she said, grinning, and Alex rolled his eyes but laughed as he got up and left her office. 

***

"Oh, Alex, you look wonderful!" Aimee gushed, clapping her hands excitedly.

Alex looked himself over in the mirror critically. "Can we make the pants tighter?" he asked, turning slightly to look at himself from more angles. "They seem a little loose to me."

"It's Royal Protocol, Alex," Toby, the designer from Sheffield, grinned at him with a shake of his head. "I'm sure the Queen wouldn't appreciate seeing too much of your tush, no matter how gorgeous it might be."

"Well, frankly, I don't really care about what the Queen does or doesn't want," he rolled his eyes. "I want it tighter."

"Very well," Toby laughed, stepping up to pin his trouser legs for adjustment.

That's when they heard the front door open. "Alex?" Henry called. 

"Don't come in!" Aimee called, her eyes wide. "You can't see him in his suit! Not before the wedding!"

"I'm not a bride," Alex chuckled.

"Bad luck does not distinguish by gender!" Aimee narrowed her eyes.

"Fine, I'll stay out here in the kitchen," Henry said, sounding amused. "How does he look?"

"To die for," Toby assured him. "If you weren't marrying him, I'd do it myself."

"You've got a boyfriend," Alex reminded him, raising his eyebrows. 

"Right," Toby grimaced, biting his lip. "Don't tell him I said this." Alex laughed. 

Toby finished measuring him up and then Alex changed back into his normal clothes, allowing Henry to slip into the room with them. He greeted both Toby and Aimee before pulling Alex in for a chaste kiss. 

“So, when will mine be done?” Henry asked curiously, turning to Aimee.

“Xavier is just putting the finishing touches to it,” Aimee smiled at him. “He’s already looking for flights to London. It won’t be long.”

“Good. I’m curious,” Henry said, cocking an eyebrow. 

“We all are,” Toby sighed dramatically, zipping up the suit cover. “Haven’t you been following the news circle?”

“Sadly, I have,” Henry muttered, but he sent Toby a smile when the other sent him a look of intrigue. “Nevermind.”

“We don’t always love the press in this house,” Alex informed him. 

“Can’t blame you,” Toby sighed. “Not after the leak all those years back.”

“There’s that,” Alex allowed. 

“Okay, I hate to cut this short,” Aimee sighed. “But I do have an appointment with the caterer in an hour, so I’ll have to take a rain check.”

“No problem,” Alex smiled. “Make sure there’s food I’ll actually want to eat at the wedding. No haggis!”

“I promise, Alex. On my life,” she grinned, crossing the room to pull him into a hug. “Toby, shall I drop you off?”

“That would be lovely,” he nodded. “Thanks! I’ll call you when I’m done with the adjustments, Alex!”

“No rush,” Alex waved. “See you!”

And with that, they saw the two of them to the door, finally leaving them alone in the Cottage. Henry pressed up against Alex as soon as he had shut the front door behind their guests, making Alex smile and lean back against his chest.

“Hello, you,” he teased.

“Hi,” Henry muttered, nuzzling his neck. “Do you have any more appointments this afternoon?”

“No,” Alex shook his head, biting his bottom lip when Henry started to kiss up to his earlobe. “Why?”

“How about we take a nice, long bath and you fuck me in the tub?” Henry breathed against his ear, making him shiver. 

“I think I could schedule that in,” Alex whispered, closing his eyes when Henry chuckled, his breath hitting his ear. 

***

“Please,” Henry sighed, looking at him apprehensively as Alex packed his last things for his trip to the two-day security training retreat he was about to undergo from tomorrow on. “Promise me you’ll at least  _ try _ to be calm and rational throughout this training.”

“I’m not going to get shot by the Royal Army,” Alex rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “That would be terribly counter-productive. Mum would be on war-path.”

“Ellen wouldn’t be the only one who’d be terribly cross,” Henry muttered. “But that’s beside the point. I don’t like how excited you are about this.”

“So you don’t like when I’m unhappy and isolated, but God beware I get too excited about Royal Duties?” Alex teased. 

Henry just rolled his eyes. “Just don’t get too  _ Alex  _ about this,” he warned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Alex demanded.

“You know,” Henry said, gesturing indistinctly with his hands. “Don’t be  _ careless _ in your enthusiasm, is all.”

“Your faith in me - I mean, your  _ concern _ is touching, sweetheart,” Alex deadpanned, and Henry snorted, but he was smiling. “And I solemnly swear that I am up to good and only good. Satisfied?”

“I’ll try to believe you,” Henry raised his eyebrows, though, by all means, he looked like he didn’t. “Are you quite done packing? I want to cuddle you before you get fake-abducted.”

“So impatient,” Alex grinned, but he zipped up his back and slipped under the covers with Henry, letting the other man envelop him in a tight embrace.

***

Henry was staring him down, looking deeply unimpressed. Alex thought that was a little unfair. If their roles had been reversed and  _ Henry _ had turned up after two days of separation with a broken nose and two cracked fingers, he’d have at least asked him if he was okay. Much rather, he’d have spoiled him rotten because that’s what you did when your fiancé was hurt, right?

Instead, Henry made him feel about two inches tall without even using his words.

“Right,” Alex said when he couldn’t stand it anymore, “so… I might have been a bit too…  _ into _ the whole scenario, so to speak?”

“You don’t say,” Henry deadpanned.

“I didn’t get shot,” Alex noted, before cringing, because that wasn’t something to proclaim like a victory, now was it?

Henry raised his eyebrows, as if agreeing with Alex’s inner monologue.

“I now know how to  _ not _ get hurt in the future?” Alex offered weakly. “I’m well prepared. I got thoroughly lectured.”

“For once, I am very glad to hear that,” Henry grumbled, sitting down next to Alex on the couch with a deep sigh. He held out his hand, and Alex tentatively laid his own, bandaged one into his palm, letting Henry examine it with tender care. “So, what’s the diagnosis?”

“Two bones cracked, one broken,” he said, pointing to his nose for the latter statement with his free hand. “2 weeks for the fingers, 6 for the nose.”

“Good gracious,” he muttered. “It’s a good thing we did this now, with the wedding months and months ahead. Imagine you walking down the aisle with a broken nose.” Alex couldn’t help it; he snorted, making Henry smile. “It’s not funny!” he informed him, but he was grinning, too. “Just imagine the headlines!”

“ _ Alex Claremont-Diaz, in pre-wedding brawl with Prince Philip? _ ” Alex mused. 

“ _ The American Ruffian marrying into the Royal Family _ ,” Henry suggested. “And then they’d refer back to fallen cakes, sex scandals and the like.”

Alex laughed, shaking his head. “Well, good thing my nose is going to be back in place before the wedding,” he shrugged. 

“Indeed,” Henry agreed. He raised Alex’s hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it and making Alex feel a little jittery at the sensation. 

“You know,” Alex murmured suggestively. “I survived an armed abduction. We should have hot, celebratory sex.”

“It was a fake abduction, and you enjoyed it,” Henry reminded him, but he was smiling, so Alex knew he already had him.

“Tomayto - tomahto,” Alex shrugged, already getting to his feet. He shot a flirty look at Henry over his shoulder. “You coming or not?”

Henry pretended to hesitate for about two seconds.


	10. The Bachelor Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! Another short chapter, but it's the last one before the wedding, so there was no point of dragging it out. I hope you'll enjoy it :D

“Alex, get your lazy ass down here!” June called from the driveway. 

“I’ll only be a minute!” Alex called back, zipping up his duffel bag. He threw a last, cursory glance around his childhood room, smiling as he did. It had been nice, spending a couple of days back in their house back in Austin. Now that his Mum was officially the former President and she had moved back in with Leon, they had gathered here for their family get-together. 

His phone buzzed, and he checked it as he shouldered his bag.

**HRH Prince Dickhead** [ 💩 ](https://emojipedia.org/pile-of-poo/)

Well, have fun, and don’t get too drunk, or if you do, make sure the girls keep you from making any horrible decisions that reflect poorly on the Crown.

Alex rolled his eyes, writing back: “Ha Fucking Ha,” to which Henry replied with a heart emoji. 

Ellen Claremont was sitting in the kitchen, reading an e-book and drinking iced tea while Leon was preparing a salad. They smiled at him as he passed them. 

“Ready to go, sugar?” His mother asked Alex, and he stepped closer to let her kiss his cheek.

“Yup,” he confirmed. “Pray for me. I have no idea what the girls have planned.”

“You’ll be fine,” she waved him off with a smile. “They love Henry too much to actually do anything too exciting.”

“So no strippers?” Alex asked with wide, innocent eyes. 

“They sent them to us,” Leon joked, and Alex laughed.

“So that’s what y’all get up to now that you’re kidless and out of the White House,” Alex mused. “I see, I see.”

“Just get out there, you dumbass, your sister is waiting,” his mother laughed, gently pushing him towards the door.

Outside, June and Nora had loaded up the truck with luggage and what looked like food and alcohol. Alex raised his eyebrows as they took his duffel bag from him, but did not comment. 

“So, will any of you actually tell me where we’re going?” he asked.

It was a hot day for Austin spring weather; it was late May, but it already felt like summer, ith the sun shining down on them heavily. Alex adjusted his sunglasses, glad the girls had assured them he was fine wearing a tank top and Bermudas. After a year in London, the heat felt especially intense. 

“Stop asking questions and get into the car, Alejandro,” Nora instructed, sounding bored.

June got into the driver’s seat and Nora took shotgun, fiddling with the music and presenting him proudly with the perfect Bachelor party playlist. The first song was Black Eyed Peas’ “Don’t Stop The Party”, and Alex whooped as she handed him a Mexican coke. He leaned back and watched the city flash by as June drove them through Austin, and then out of town and onto the highway.

“So,” Nora said, halfway turning to him in her seat, “what does it feel like, to be one week away from being a married man?”

Alex grinned, taking a sip from his bottle. “I don’t know,” he told her honestly. “I’m just going with it, for now, to be honest.”

Nora blew a raspberry at his response and he laughed.

“Give him a break,” June grinned. “He was busy planning the wedding of the decade. It must be hard to process, with everything that’s been happening.”

“Honestly, part of me still twitches to call Aimee every five minutes to check if everyone has RVSP-ed, or if she could solve the problem with the caterer,” Alex winced. “But I’m on holiday, so I won’t.”

“Right,” Nora looked at him sternly. “This is your Bachelor Party. No wedding planning.”

Alex held up his hands innocently, coke bottle still in his right. 

“So, do you know what your betrothed is doing tonight?” June asked.

“Bea and Pez are taking him out,” Alex shrugged. “Knowing Pez, it will be sufficiently wild, but that’s all I can tell you.”

“You know, for a while, we considered just throwing you one big joint Bachelor party and be done with it,” June confided.

“Pez suggested you could be each other’s strippers,” Nora snorted.

“Oh my God,” he groaned, but he was laughing.

“But then we decided it would be good to get you out to Texas once more before the wedding,” June shrugged. “And Bea suggested you are allowed a break from being royal after all that time, so here we are.”

“I wouldn’t have minded having Henry here,” ge shrugged, but he laughed when Nora exaggeratedly rolled her eyes.

“Not even married yet and already attached by the hip,” she sighed, shaking her head and sitting back so she was facing forwards. “What are we going to do with him?”

“Make him drunk and take embarrassing photos?” June suggested.

“Tell horrible stories about him at the reception?” Nora returned.

“Now, now,” Alex interrupted, amused. “No need to be mean.”

They ignored him. Nora’s playlist had moved on to “We Found Love” by Rihanna ft. Calvin Harris and Alex leaned back, staring at the landscape as Texas passed them by. 

***

When they arrived at their lake house at Lake LBJ one and a half hours later, Alex wasn’t really surprised - he had figured out their destination halfway through, having driven there often enough over the years. What he had not expected, though, was the house already being occupied by familiar faces.

“Liam! Spencer!” Alex grinned, pulling the two of them into affectionate hugs as he stepped onto the terrace. Spencer was working the grill, apparently planning for a barbecue, and Liam was preparing drinks.

“Hey there, soon-to-be-Duke!” Liam teased, and Alex rolled his eyes.

“Oh my God, please, don’t remind me,” Alex moaned.

“How is life in a palace?” Spencer asked him curiously. “Is it very Disney-like?”

“Not at all, I’m afraid,” Alex sighed. “Sorry to burst your bubble, man.”

Spencer pouted, and Liam patted his arm fondly. “Ignore him, he’s watched too much Frozen lately,” Liam rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “So, they’re not treating you well over there?”

“It’s been better, now that Catherine is Queen,” Alex shrugged. “Less racism, more freedom. I still prefer life in New York or Texas. Even the White House was less restrictive, you know?”

Liam made a face. “You planning to stay over there, you and Henry?”

“No,” Alex shook his head. “We’ll only stay for a couple more months after the wedding and then we’ll probably move back to NYC. Catherine has already approved it.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Liam smiled. 

“Okay, enough royal chit-chat,” Nora said, turning up next to Alex with a shot glass in hand. The liquid inside was dubiously blue. “Alex, you’re going to start drinking now, or I swear to God!”

“I haven’t even eaten!” Alex complained, but he took the glass, anyways.

“Should have thought of that before you got into a car with us,” Nora shrugged, clearly no sympathy. 

Alex shook his head, chuckling before downing the drink. It was fruity and tasted of orange, but it burned on the way down. He grimaced and handed the glass back to Nora.

“You want help with the barbecue?” Alex asked Spencer.

“If you’d like,” he smiled.

All in all, as Bachelor parties went, it was a pretty tame event, but Alex loved it for its messy familiarity. They ate barbecue on the terrace and mixed their own cocktails, laughing and drinking into the night. There was lots of talking and dancing and at one point, they went down to the lake to bathe their feet (not to go for a swim - June was vehement none of them go in with that much alcohol in their system). June got out her guitar to play later, when things started to calm down, and Alex felt so full and content watching them that he was sure his dopey smile must have actually been price-worthy. 

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket to find a message from Henry.

**HRH Prince Dickhead** [ 💩 ](https://emojipedia.org/pile-of-poo/)

I am three vodkas in and Pez keeps procuring new glasses. Send help.

Attached was a picture of Henry, Bea and Pez in some club, the guys in colourful suit jackets and Bea in a fitting Blazer and skirt. Henry’s eyes already looked slightly glassy in the picture, but he was smiling, and Pez was hanging off his shoulder, smooching his cheek. It made Alex grin. 

Alex switched to camera mode and turned his back to the others, holding the phone up in the air. “Say hello to Henry,” he called. They all looked up and struck various poses. Alex grinned and took a shot before launching back into his prior, more comfortable position, typing out his response.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you’re on your own. If it helps at all, Nora has some blue drink that I’m sure is demon juice or something.”

He attached the photo and hit send, then pocketed his phone again. 

***

When Alex woke the next morning, his head was pounding horribly, and his mouth tasted like demon juice warmed over. He lay in his bed for a long while, not feeling like moving, but when he heard movement out in the kitchen, his brain started to work too much for him to fall back asleep again.

He reached for his phone, calling up the messages he had missed throughout the night. Most were from Henry, and despite being hungover, Alex had to grin at them. Oh, Pez had definitely succeeded in making him drunk, Alex thought cheerfully. Henry was going to suffer when he woke up, probably more than him.

Eventually, he made himself get up and stumble out of the room. The light outside of his bedroom was bright and aggressive - it was noon already, Alex was sure - and the sun was shining in through the window. He blinked and made his way to the kitchen, deciding to investigate the noise.

He found his father, happily preparing a brunch spread. He grinned when he saw Alex blearily staring at him.

“Hola, mijo,” Oscar grinned at him, turning to pour him a coffee. Alex whimpered, reaching out to receive the offering. “Hard night?”

Alex just grumbled and took a sip. His father chuckled.

“So,” he said conversationally as Alex sat down at the table, staring blankly at all the food. “Six more days until you get hitched.”

“So it seems,” Alex agreed. 

“Any thoughts you’d like to share with the class, Alexander Gabriel Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Duke of Sussex?” 

“If you ever call me that again, I’ll never speak to you again,” I’ll grumble. “I have five more days before that’s officially written on my passport, and I’ll insist on the public calling me ‘Claremont-Diaz’ to my dying day. It will stay my public name and that’s that.”

Oscar laughed, shaking his head. “It’s quite a mouthful,” he allowed. “But it’s better than five last names?”

“Heaven forbid,” Alex scoffed. “No, there’s gotta be some limit.”

Oscar smiled and went back to cutting mushrooms. Alex tentatively reached for a piece of watermelon, nibbling at it. 

“I don’t know,” Alex said, at last. “I think it still hasn’t caught up to me that it’s actually happening so soon. We spent all this time planning and now it’s here.”

“That’s understandable,” his father nodded. He looked up at him. “Are you nervous, or scared?”

“Not really,” Alex shook his head. “Though I have a feeling I’ll be freaking out on the day.”

“I was a mess on my wedding day,” Oscar grinned. “But the moment I saw your Mum walk down the aisle? It all disappeared.”

“I’ll be the one walking down the aisle, though,” I reminded him, flashing him a grin. “Bride, remember?”

Oscar snorted, shaking his head. “Same thing, though,” he decided. “As soon as you see Henry, you’ll be fine. I can promise you that.”

Alex smiled and nodded. He had a feeling that his father was right on that one. 

Their moment was interrupted by a pitiful moan. The door to the room with the bunk beds opened and then, Nora and June stumbled out, looking dishevelled and very hungover. 

Alex grinned. Misery liked company.

Oscar, too, was smiling. “Coffee?” he asked, and June nodded, leaning against his shoulder in response. He laughed. 

“I’ll never drink again,” Nora declared. “I hope Bea ordered enough non-alcoholic drinks at your wedding because I’m not touching any of that champagne.”

“I don’t believe a word you say,” Alex deadpanned.

“Watch me,” Nora grumbled, resting the side of her face against the windowpane. 

“Where are Liam and Spencer?” June asked, eyes only half-open.

“Still out cold?” Alex guessed.

“Lucky fuckers,” Nora grumbled.

Oscar shook his head and began to fry them a mushroom omelette.

“Dad,” June moaned. “I don’t think I can eat.”

“Nonsense,” he brushed her off. “Nutrition is the best way to fight a hangover.”

She argued, and as she did, Alex’s phone buzzed. He fished it out of his pocket and found a google notification on the screen. 

**6 DAYS: THE COUNTDOWN TO THE ROYAL WEDDING**

**Click here to read everything about the guest list and** **  
** **what Prince Henry and Alex will wear**

Alex grinned, pocketing his phone again. Six more days, he thought. No time at all. 


	11. The Royal Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we reached the wedding ;__; It's been quite a ride, hasn't it! I hope you'll enjoy it and that the build-up hasn't disappointed - I know royal weddings aren't exactly Disney, and since I tried to write it more or less realistically (I watched an awful lot of the William/Kate and Harry/Meghan weddings throughout the writing process *coughs*), I hope it's not boring. 
> 
> This chapter is just the ceremony and the procession. The reception will be in the next one. So no cake yet ;)
> 
> Okay, enough talk for now! Enjoy!

Alex stared at himself in the mirror, chewing on his lower lip. He shifted from one foot to the other, and Toby hissed: “Alex, I swear to God, stop moving, or there won’t be a wedding because I’ll murder you before you even get to church.”

Alex rolled his eyes and forced himself to stand still as Toby finished his last adjustments to his outfit. Standing still, though, made his anxiety worse, and he exhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

“You okay there?” June asked carefully from where she was spread out on the couch with Nora. 

“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” Alex deadpanned.

“No, you won’t!” Toby said sharply. “Not on your suit!”

A warm hand grasped his shoulder in comfort, and Alex opened his eyes to meet his Dad’s warm smile in the mirror. “There’s no need to worry, Alex,” he said in a gentle voice. “This is about you and Henry, yeah? Screw everything else. You and him celebrating your love, that’s all that matters.”

Alex nodded, taking another deep breath. Finally, Toby stopped fussing around, stepping back to admire him. “You’re a masterpiece, if I may say so,” he declared.

“So I won’t scandalise the Queen Mother?” he asked, a small smile creeping over his lips.

“Oh, maybe a little,” Toby said easily, grinning. “But it will be worth it.” 

Alex chuckled, staring at his reflection. He was wearing a black tuxedo with silk lapels and a baby blue waistcoat underneath, paired with a red tie and white shirt. The pants were just that bit tighter than royal protocol demanded, showing off his legs and making him feel less short. 

“You look hot,” Nora grinned at him.

“Why, thank you,” Alex wiggled his eyebrows at her. “That was the whole point, you know.”

He raised his hand to reach out for his hair but stopped himself; his dark curls had been carefully styled earlier, and messing them up now would surely win him someone’s ire. Instead, he decided to turn away from the mirror, looking at his family.

“Where’s Mom?” he asked.

“I think she and Leo were talking to Catherine,” June shrugged.

“Right,” Alex nodded. He opened his mouth to say something else, though he wasn’t quite sure what that something was, but then, the door opened and Aimee came in, looking frazzled as she typed away on her phone. 

“Toby, you done here? I need to send you and Jay down in a car with Xavier, the Royal family is about to get ready…” she glanced at Alex then, and her eyes softened. “Darling, you look stunning!” she gushed.

“Thank you,” Alex smiled. “Is everything going okay?”

“Perfectly,” she assured him. “You should turn on the TV, BBC is covering the proceedings. You’ll know what’s happening that way.”

“Do I really want to?” Alex sighed, but Nora had already grabbed the remote and turned on the little TV in the corner. Pictures flashed across the screen of masses and masses of people waiting in front of Buckingham Palace. Alex felt a bit sick again.

“Alright,” Aimee nodded. “Toby, let’s go!”

“Don’t trip on the way down the aisle,” Toby grinned at Alex, patting him on the shoulder. Alex rolled his eyes but smiled as his designer followed Aimee out of the room. 

His eyes went back to the screen and he watched as the programme started showing the entrance of Westminster Abbey. The French President was waving at the cameras, and in the background, Alex could see Rafael Luna. That made him smile a little.

The door opened again, and his mother came into the room. She had her hair down and she was wearing a pretty floral dress; she looked more relaxed than he had seen her in a while, he realised. Maybe it was because the weight of the presidency was off her shoulders. She smiled as she saw him.

“Well, don’t you clean up nicely,” she drawled, shaking her head fondly. “You look great, sugar.”

“Thanks,” Alex smiled. He glanced back at the TV, unable to help himself. It showed the people gathering on the streets now, most of them waving Union Jacks, but not all of them, Alex realised. There were quite a few pride shirts and flags, and some ‘History, huh?’ shirts or posters. A few stray US flags. It made Alex’s heartbeat speed up to know how many people had really come to celebrate  _ them _ , not just the wedding of a Prince. 

And then, the cameras changed to Buckingham Palace - just outside their gates, to be exact, showing two Rolls Royce led by security personnel on a motorbike leaving the premises. The windows of the first car weren’t tinted. He saw Shaan in the front seat, expression stoic, and Alex’s heart stopped. 

Henry was sitting in the backseat with Pez and Bea. His smile was nervous but sincere as he waved into the cheering crowd, and Pez was grinning widely. Bea was waving, too, seemingly enjoying herself immensely. 

Alex’s eyes, though, were fixed on Henry. He couldn’t see his whole outfit yet, but he knew how it was supposed to look like, of course, and from what he could tell from this limited viewpoint, he looked stunning. He felt hot all over.

He still couldn’t believe he got to marry this man.

“And so it’s starting,” Oscar observed. “When will we go?”

“You’re last, with Alex,” Ellen told him. “I think Prince Philip and Martha are going next, and then it’s me and Leo. Then it’s either June and Nora, or Catherine and her mother. We’d have to check with Aimee. And then, Alex and you.”

“Why is Henry going down so early?” Nora frowned. “Seems a bit excessive, with the number of people arriving before Alex.”

“Don’t ask me how Royal Protocol works,” Ellen laughed, holding up her hands. “Maybe it’s so he can look pretty and princely for the world to see?”

BBC was still showing the progress of Henry’s car through town, and Alex kept sneaking glances at the screen, feeling exhilarated at the view of his fiancé. When the car finally arrived at Westminster Abbey, Aimee peeked her head through the door. 

“Ellen, Leo, say your goodbyes, I need you down in five,” she told them before ducking out again. 

His mother then pulled him into a tight hug. “Try to enjoy yourself,” she whispered. “Don’t think about everyone else, okay?” 

Alex smiled at that and nodded. As they left, he looked back at the TV. He couldn’t help it. It was a compulsion. Henry had now gotten out of the car and was waving at the camera. The outfit Xavier had designed looked indeed show-stopping on him. He was so glad he had put his foot down for it. Henry looked comfortable in it, too, despite the cameras on him, and suddenly, Alex couldn’t wait to get this whole thing over with just so that he could get to him. 

The camera angle shifted again to show that Philip, Martha and Jamie had left Buckingham. Alex groaned, finally averting his eyes. “Who cares?” he grumbled, and Nora sniggered.

They continued like that for a while longer, watching TV, making comments, the others laughing as Alex not so discreetly swooned over Henry. 

Well, it wasn’t his fault that Henry looked horrendously attractive no matter what he did. Talking to the priest. Walking down the aisle, flanked by Bea and Pez. Wringing his hands in nervousness. Straining his head for familiar faces. Greeting relatives and making small talk. 

Philip and Martha arrived, Martha carrying Jamie in her arms. They both hugged Henry before they took their seats and for once, you almost couldn’t tell that there was any tension in the family. Maybe, Alex thought, after all the chaos and drama, this wedding really did have the power to bring them all together, if only for a few hours. Alex didn’t dare believe it.

Aimee soon picked up Nora and June, and that was the moment Alex truly freaked out, if only inwardly. He thought June saw it on his face because she hugged him for a long moment, longer than usual. 

“We’ll be waiting for you at the church,” she reminded him. “You won’t be alone for even a second.”

Once they were gone, Alex and his Dad took over the couch, watching BBC’s coverage in tense silence. Alex’s Mom and Leo had arrived. Ellen Claremont was clearly in her element, chatting with people left and right, but there was a brightness to her that she didn’t have when she was merely in a political function. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen her this happy in years,” Oscar told him with a wry smile. “She’s truly thrilled for you. We all are.”

Alex chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m sure I am, too. Underneath all the horror I feel right now.”

“You’re not getting cold feet, right?” his Dad joked.

“No,” Alex frowned. “It’s just - this is a bit overwhelming, you know? I mean, I knew it was coming, but… all these people? Out there to watch me get married? Really?”

“It’s a lot,” Oscar allowed. “But also… hell, yeah, kid! All these people! Watching you, a half-Mexican boy from Texas, marry a Prince. Isn’t that huge?”

Alex bit his lip and nodded. “True, that,” he admitted.

“And it’s not like you can screw it up from this point on,” Oscar shrugged. “That boy loves you, and he’ll still love you if you fall up those church steps, crack your teeth and break your nose.”

At that, Alex laughed. “Now, wouldn’t that be a Royal Wedding to remember,” he grinned.

“Wouldn’t be boring, at least,” his Dad smirked.

On-screen, Catherine and Queen Mother Mary arrived. Catherine, just like Alex’s mother, looked bright and happy in a way Alex had never seen her before. The contrast was very stark on her. Henry’s grandmother, though, was composed as ever. No change there, Alex thought.

The door opened, and Aimee was back. She was smiling at them softly.

“It’s time,” she said.

Oscar grinned at Alex. He stood and reached out a hand. Alex took it and let his father pull him to his feet.

“Ready?” he asked.

“No,” Alex sighed. “Let’s do this.”

***

The drive down to Westminster was a haze to Alex. He sat there in his seat, waving and smiling while the people outside cheered and screamed his name as he drove by. Little children were perched on their parents’ shoulders, trying to get a glimpse of him. 

“You know,” Oscar said conversationally, looking out of the window, “they were so concerned about Britain being too conservative to welcome you, but they really do love you, after all.”

Alex smiled, looking out of the window again. “I guess it’s just like the US,” he said, at last. “You have the die-hard Republicans, and you’ll never be able to change their minds. Traditionalists at heart, racists, some of them. That’s the Brexiters here, or the Tories. But then, there are the others, and those are the people that no one accounted for when Texas turned blue in 2020 when Mom was reelected. And those are the people that now stand in support with me and Henry.”

Oscar smiled, nodding. “And that’s why you’ll make a brilliant politician one day,” he chuckled. “Because you draw them out, kid.”

Alex grinned, gratified by that thought. 

When they turned a corner, though, and Alex could finally hear the church bells over the cheers of the crowd, his heart dropped to his stomach.

“ _ Díos Mío _ ,” he breathed.

“No need to panic,” his Dad told him, in Spanish. “Just go out there and own it, son.”

Alex nodded. Right. 

And then, they were there, in front of Westminster Abbey, and this was it, Alex thought. He was going to do this.  _ They  _ were going to do this.

He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the way Henry had looked on TV, nervous and adorable. It made him feel a bit better.

“You okay?” his Dad asked. 

“Yeah,” Alex nodded, and someone opened the door on his side. “Let’s do this.”

The noise was a bit overwhelming when he got out of the car - bells and cheers, but then, June and Nora were there, a sight for sore eyes in their matching soft gold dresses. They’d first feared that gold might be a bit too on-the-nose for a royal event, but they’d coordinated it with Bea and they were rocking it, quite honestly. Nora’s dress was sleeveless and fell loosely from her waist, her shoulders covered by a thin bolero; June’s had short, ruffled, sleeves barely covering her own shoulders and accentuating her hips. He knew from the pictures on TV that Bea had gone for a more traditional, clean cut; Alex thought it reminded him a bit of Catherine’s wedding dress, only shorter. 

“We’re right behind you,” June reminded him, handing him his bouquet - white dahlia, bluebonnet and red roses. Mexican, Texan and the English state flowers. 

Alex clung to the bouquet, his lips twitching. “Now I feel like a proper bride,” he quipped. “Ready to walk me down the aisle, Dad?”

Oscar Diaz elbowed him, in front of millions of people on TV, and he smiled. “More than ready to give you away,” he said, in a tone that might as well have translated to ‘be rid of you’. Alex snorted.

“No need to sound so eager,” he chuckled.

He checked that June and Nora were in position behind them. They were. Then, he caught his Dad’s eyes and nodded.

Ministers were waiting for them at the entrance to the church - one of them was the Latin-American one Henry and Alex had asked for. They smiled and nodded at Alex, and honestly, it was all Alex could do to nod back and keep walking without stumbling. How women did this in floor-length dresses, he had no idea. Maybe this was why they had their fathers leading them down the aisle - so they didn’t fall flat on their faces. Alex had declined that part. He would have his Dad accompany him, but he would have nobody hold his hand like a five-year-old. 

When Alex entered the church, everyone got to their feet. The ministers turned to lead the way down the red-carpeted aisle - which was too long to see the end of just yet. Alex’s eyes danced around, trying to find familiar faces, but the number of people overwhelmed him. He knew all eyes were on him and he tried to smile. 

They stopped in the entranceway and Alex tried to remember what was happening. Right. Ceremony. The music started, which meant at the front of the church, Henry was being led to the altar. Not that Alex could see him just yet. And then, the ministers started moving, and Alex knew it was their turn to follow. 

Alex could feel all eyes on them as he slowly set one foot in front of the other, tempted to make eye contact but still afraid he’d fall flat on his face if he looked anywhere but straight ahead. They were approaching the Nave and through it, Alex could finally make out Henry.

Alex knew, reading through Royal Protocol and watching other ceremonies, that Henry was supposed to face towards the front. It was what Philip had done, he remembered. Henry, though, was looking back at him, watching him approach as any groom would watch the person they love walk down the aisle, and knowing that Henry was watching made Alex feel safe in a way he hadn’t all day. His smile came more naturally and his shoulders relaxed. His breathing evened out. 

Henry looked even better than he had on TV, but it wasn’t his attractiveness that caught Alex’s attention at that moment. It was the way he looked at Alex, the emotion in his eyes, and all over his face. It felt almost like watching something private and intimate, the tender expression that played out on his face. 

Like he couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Like he might somehow be dreaming. 

Alex passed through the Nave and approached the altar, walking through the singing choir on both sides. He now spotted his mother and Leo on the left side, along with Liam, Spencer and Luna. His party, closest to the action. There were three more empty seats for his Dad, June and Nora.

His Dad accompanied him all the way up to the altar, and this time, Alex was grateful. His eyes were already locked with Henry’s, and he wasn’t really watching his steps anymore. The steadying hand his father had on the small of his back was actually helpful. 

Alex grinned at Henry when they were finally side by side, and his answering smile was something out of another dimension. His cheeks were flushed and he looked so sincerely happy, Alex wanted to forever engrave this moment into his memory.

They waited awkwardly for a couple of moments until the music came to an end. 

And then, the ceremony started, and in hindsight, Alex remembered appallingly little of it. He guessed it was a good thing the whole event had been on TV, so he could always rewatch it. There were prayers and songs - lots of both - and then that section where the Latin-American priest had taken the word, and a choir of Hispanic children had sung a couple of songs. He did remember thinking that it was taking awfully long - he knew that weddings were no five-minute affair, of course, but at some point, he thought, he’d really like to just say ‘Yes, I do’ and be out of there - and then, finally, they were called up to the front again from their chairs and Alex knew that this was it.  _ Finally. _

“Henry and Alex, I invite you to join hands and make your vows in the presence of God and his people,” the Minister announced, and Henry squeezed Alex’s hand, so gently that it made his heart skip. He started repeating after the Minister then, his voice not faltering, and Alex’s chest was tight as I watched him, his heart in his throat. 

“I, Henry, take you, Alexander, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part. According to God’s holy law in the presence of God, I make this vow.”

By the time he was finished, there was a lump in Alex’s throat, and he had to discreetly clear his throat to repeat his own vows. Henry noticed and smiled softly. Alex’s voice was raw, but he got through it without stumbling. 

Bea stepped up at this point, handing the Minister their rings. That was one of the few parts Henry had taken over; Alex had no idea how their rings even looked like, but judging by the choice he’d made for Alex’s engagement ring, he had no doubt that Henry was to be trusted in that department.

After the Minister was done blessing their rings, Henry took the one intended for Alex and slipped it past Alex’s first knuckle. It was silver and sturdy, simpler than the engagement ring, though there were patterns Alex would have to take a closer look at later.

“Alex, I give you this ring,” he started repeating after the Minister, “as a sign of our marriage. With my body, I honour you. All that I am, I give to you, and all that I have, I share with you, within the love of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.”

Then, he gently pushed the ring all the way onto Alex’s finger. He squeezed his hand once and smiled before he let it go. As he picked up Henry’s ring - same design - and gently cradled Henry’s hand, reciting the words, he noticed that Henry’s hand was trembling just so slightly. Why hadn’t he noticed before? He had seemed so composed, but of course, he wasn’t. He knew him better than that. He took his time pushing the ring onto Henry’s finger, deliberately keeping eye contact and trying to communicate his thoughts to Henry:  _ I know. Me too. I love you.  _ And Henry seemed to understand because his lips twitched.

They didn’t let go of each other’s hands after, even when they turned back to the Minister. Alex spaced out for a moment at the pressure of Henry’s hand in his but tuned back in when he heard the words: “... I, therefore, proclaim that they are husbands.”

Cheers filtered in from outside the church and Alex felt chills go down his spine. 

More prayer, more music. Alex and Henry glanced at each other, exchanged a grin. 

For a moment, he wished the Anglican Church didn’t have that stupid, antiquated rule about no kissing during wedding ceremonies. He really wanted to kiss him. 

And then, after their marriage certificate had been signed and the last prayers had been said (at last), the British National Anthem was sung - which Alex knew he had to sing along with now, no matter his feelings about it. Some things came with the job. He'd even learned the words. 

At least, he knew, this was finally their cue to leave.

And indeed, after the last notes had played, a new song started, and Henry smiled down at him, taking his hand once more. 

Henry led Alex back down the aisle, towards the exit of the church. Their immediate family followed after them - Alex’s parents, Catherine, Bea and June, Philip with Martha and Jamie, and of course Nora and Pez. Henry’s grandmother remained seated, Alex realised. 

Again, Alex felt everyone’s eyes on them as they made their way down the aisle, but now, with Henry at his side, it didn’t feel half as bad. He kept throwing glances at him, and they were met with sheepish, happy smiles that sent shots of excitement through Alex. 

The cheers were audible long before they reached the door, and Henry squeezed his hand. Outside, the people were waving and yelling for them and Alex was blind-sighted by it for a moment, but then, Henry tugged at his hand, and he turned to look up at him. 

Henry had pushed out his chin in that way that Alex loved so much, and that was all the warning Alex got before Henry leaned in to kiss him, claiming him as he had clearly waited the whole ceremony to do, in front of millions of eyes. Alex grinned against his lips and leaned into him, kissing him back. 

Above them, the bells announced the end of the ceremony, but the sound was almost drowned out in the noise of the people around them. 

***

The carriage ride back to Buckingham was strange but wonderful. They still had to wave and smile like the good royals they were (even Alex, who now officially belonged to them, no turning back), but with Henry at his side, sending him smiles and squeezing his thigh affectionately, it all didn’t seem so bad. 

And then, they arrived at the palace, and the national anthem was played again. Thankfully, Alex didn’t have to sing along this time. Still, he breathed a sigh of relief when they were led out of the public eye and into the palace, still in their carriage. There were still cameras around but at least, it felt a little less overwhelming. The carriage came to a stop and a traditionally dressed royal guard opened the door for them, holding it open. 

Henry smiled at Alex. “After you,” he said. 

Alex saw the other carriages arriving after them. Bea, June, Pez and Nora had been sharing one, and June caught his eye and grinned at him as she stepped out of her carriage, Pez giving her a hand. Then Henry was in front of him again, catching him by the waist and smiling. 

“So,” he whispered, clearly taking advantage of this moment of peace. “The first part of the madness is over.”

“Only leaves the rest of the day,” Alex grinned.

Henry chuckled, and, as if unable to help himself, he leaned in to kiss him again. Alex didn’t complain. If anyone was going to chastise them about PTA on their wedding day, they could fuck off, seriously.

Inside, Aimee was already waiting for them, looking beside herself with joy. 

“Congrats, you too,” she grinned, throwing all protocol over board to pull them into a hug.

Alex let out a laugh, squeezing her. “Thanks,” he chuckled. “How did you get here so fast?”

“Cars and shortcuts,” she grinned, pulling away. “You might not believe it, but carriages aren’t actually that quick.”

“No way,” Alex deadpanned.

She grinned, waving them along. “Come on, it’s photo session before you show your faces on the balcony.”

And so they spent the next half hour taking wedding portraits - with just the two of them, with the family, the best man and women, etc etc.. It was a good thing Alex felt a bit giddy already because, after so much smiling, his facial muscles were starting to strain a bit. 

“Can we have a moment?” Henry asked Aimee when the last shots had been taken and the photographer was packing in. “Before we go out there, I mean?”

Aimee’s eyes softened. “Of course,” she nodded. “Why don’t you just join us when you’re ready?”

“Thank you,” Henry grinned. “That’s perfect.”

She led the crew outside and then, Henry and Alex found themselves alone in the room, for the first time that day. Henry turned to him with a wide smile, brushing a stray curl from Alex’s forehead. 

“Hello, husband,” he said softly.

A thrill went through Alex at the words. “Hello yourself,” he replied, his voice rough. His arms wrapped around Henry’s waist and he kissed him deeply, in a way he couldn’t while all the cameras had been turned on them. Henry hummed into his mouth, leaning into him, and Alex felt his anxiety level drive down various beats. 

He was  _ home. _

_ *** _

The mass of people gathered in front of Buckingham Palace was insane. Of course, Alex had seen his fair share of gathering - he had been present at both his mother’s inaugurations, after all, but that had been different. She had been the first Madam President. Of course, people had gathered. It had been a momentous occasion in history. It was still hard for him to remember that his wedding was such a historical event, too. The Prince of Wales marrying a man, and a POC notwithstanding. 

As they stepped out onto the balcony, people started cheering, and he tried not to let the noise overwhelm him but good God, honestly?  _ All these people? For them? _ He took in the rainbow flags and all the colours amongst the crowd. It made quite a picture. 

For a while, it was just them, waving and scanning the crowd. Alex could tell that Henry was a bit wrong-footed, just like him.

“Be honest,” Alex muttered, leaning towards him. “Did you really think we’d get here?”

“Not always,” Henry admitted, looking at him. “At the beginning? Never! But this past year? Without the shadow of a doubt.”

Alex grinned, and Henry leaned in to kiss him. If possible, the crowd got even wilder at that - honestly, was a soccer match or something going on in the background? That couldn’t be all for them.

Alex knew that their families were filtering out onto the balcony behind them. He knew that people were still watching them, and they were being filmed and pictures were taken. But Henry didn’t stop kissing him, and Alex let himself lean into it and forget the world around him, just for a moment. 

Because this was theirs, and no one could touch it. 


	12. The Reception & The Happily Ever After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I'm sorry this chapter took so long. I've been fighting with it, and I'm not sure I'm quite content with it, but it won't get better than this. 
> 
> I really hope you'll enjoy this final chapter. Thank you so much for your support throughout the story, I had a blast writing it!!

“Is it over yet?” Alex asked Henry underneath his breath, leaning towards him so they could whisper before the next person stepped up to congratulate them. 

Henry chuckled, nudging Alex’s shoulder with his. “I know,” he sighed. “Why did we have to invite so many people again?”

“Because you’re a fucking Prince,” Alex grumbled, polite smile still spread across his lips. “I would have been fine eloping.”

“You couldn’t have somehow forgotten to send half of these invitations out?” Henry joked. “What were you so involved in the planning for?”

“I’m not causing another international incident,” Alex scoffed. “Not at  _ my _ wedding.”

“Just at my brother’s, then,” Henry quipped and Alex grinned. 

They straightened to accept the congratulations of more people Alex had never met in his life - lower nobility, as it turned out, and how strange was it that he outranked all these people now when he had been nothing but an outsider until a couple of hours ago - but his smile became more earnest when he caught the eyes of Liam and Spencer next in the queue. 

“Well, look at you, Your Royal Highness,” Liam teased, and the words sounded plainly _wrong_ in his Texas drawl. 

“Please, don’t,” Alex made a face, and Liam cackled. 

“Congratulations, you two!” Spencer gushed. “Honestly, the wedding was like something out of a dream! I never thought I’d get to see anything like it - a gay royal wedding!”

“Wait until Disney buys the rights,” Liam winked, making Alex laugh.

“Oh, they should!” Spencer said earnestly. 

“Please, no,” Henry sighed. “I think a couple of movie makers have already been knocking down our gates for permission from Clarence House. We’ve been resistant so far but I’m sure one will come through eventually.”

“Might as well be Disney,” Alex smirked at him. “You’d make a handsome animated Prince.”

“Just stop,” Henry sighed, but he was smiling. Then, Trish gently signalled for them to mind the time, and Henry bit his lip, saying: “I’m sorry to rush you along, but -”

“It’s fine, we wouldn’t want to hold up the line,” Liam nodded, clasping Alex’s shoulder. “Talk to you later?”

“Definitely,” Alex promised, and then, they went back to accepting pleasantries from people they barely knew.

When they were finally released, the tables were mostly filled. Some people were still lingering, chatting with friends or acquaintances, and Henry and Alex lingered in the doorway, taking in the view. 

“Is it too late to sneak out and have our wedding dinner at McDonald's?” Alex asked, making Henry laugh. 

“I’m afraid so,” he grinned, reaching out to entwine their fingers. “But you’ve come this far, you can surely make it through the rest of the evening.”

“You have a lot of faith in me,” Alex raised his eyebrows, but when he met Henry’s eyes, his features softened into a smile. “Well, at least there’ll be good food,” he shrugged. 

“There’d better be, since you chose it,” Henry laughed.

Aimee popped up behind them at that moment, a bright smile on her face. “Ready to join your crowd of adoring guests?” she asked. “If so, we need to properly announce your entrance.”

“More protocol,” Alex sighed, but he straightened his tux and looked up at Henry, who just nodded. “Well, let’s do it, then, before our adoring guests starve to death.”

They stepped back from the doorway again and the designated host of the evening asked everyone to take their seats. Then, they were officially called inside, under polite applause, and Alex held his head up high and focused on not stumbling once more. 

They were seated on a large, central table with Alex’s parents, June, Nora, Catherine, Bea and Pez. Queen Mother Mary, Philip, Martha and Jamie were sat at another table, not far from theirs, with cousins of the Fox-Mountchristen-Windsors. They had thought about that particular decision long and hard - technically, they could have put up a larger table to include them - but after what had happened with Alex and his grandmother last year, Henry had put his foot down and had insisted there was no need for her at the table, no matter which message that sent to the public. Now, as Alex took his seat and looked into the faces of their closest friends and family, he was grateful for Henry’s firm stance. It was calming to be able to let his guard down at least here. 

Once they had reached their seats, they had to give a short address - welcome, thanks for coming, please enjoy the food, yadda yadda - and then, they were finally free to sit and take a breather. Catherine reached out to take Henry’s hand with a fond smile, squeezing it.

“That was a wonderful ceremony,” she told him before catching Alex’s gaze. “You did a marvellous job there.”

“Most of the credit goes to Aimee,” he shrugged, reaching out for his glass of champagne and taking a sip. 

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Henry frowned. “I know how hard you worked on this, and it showed.”

“It’s much nicer than Pip’s wedding,” Bea noted.

“Beatrice,” Catherine scolded.

“What? It’s true,” she pursed her lips, making Alex laugh.

“Also, thanks for these,” June noted, lifting her left arm to show off the corsage that Alex had commissioned from his bouquet before the reception started. Alex had decided to defy the gender normative tradition of throwing the bouquet, instead assigning the florist to work the flowers into female and male corsages for each and every member of their close circles of family and friends to wear tonight; as a token of thanks for supporting them throughout the last couple of months. He’d had the corsages placed on their assigned seats, with a handwritten note from him and Henry, and looking around the table, where he could see everyone wearing them, he was glad to see that his plan seemed to have been successful. 

“Thank  _ you _ ,” Alex grinned at her, “for suffering through my most groomzilla-ish moments.”

“Is this the part where we reminisce on embarrassing making-of stories?” Nora asked. “Because I’m in!”

“I think this is the part where we get the food,” Pez announced, eyes lighting up. “Damn, thank God, I’m starving!”

Alex very much agreed with the sentiment; he hadn’t had much to eat throughout the day, though he had been running on too much adrenaline to care or notice. Now, though, his stomach decided to twist and grumble at the sight of food, and he gave a little sigh of relief. Henry smiled at him and reached out to squeeze his knee affectionately.

In an attempt to make everyone happy while still preserving tradition and not outright going for a buffet (as much as he would have liked to), he had offered various choices on the menu that had been sent to the guests with the invitations, and they had been asked for their preferred meal with the RSVP. Like that, the British nobility could have their British food that Alex wouldn’t have touched for the world, and Alex could put steak or Mexican food on the menu that others could politely ignore. He was very amused to note that Henry had matched him with every order. He wondered if that would end up in the tabloids eventually.

As dinner came to a close, it was time to mingle with the crowd; most of the guests were jumping at the opportunity to have a word with Henry, but Alex, too, was a hot commodity, and he soon found himself surrounded by people, making small talk about his charity and life at Kensington. Bea turned up at his side at one point, a private smile on her lips and a drink in her hand, which she promptly delivered to him. 

“You are the best sister-in-law,” Alex sighed, taking a long sip. In a lower voice, he muttered: “So, this is it. I’m one of y’all now.”

“That you are,” she chuckled. “You’re doing beautifully, though. You’re a pro already.”

Alex snorted and she laughed. He glanced around the room, trying to spot Henry - it was an instinct, at this point - and when their eyes met across the room, Alex had to hide his smile behind the rim of his glass. 

“Just go over to him already,” Bea laughed under her breath. “You two are so smitten, it almost hurts to watch.”

“Well, we’re newlyweds,” Alex reminded her. “I think we’re allowed.”

“True,” she conceded. “So go and be disgustingly in love over there. Make a show of it.”

Alex grinned and saluted her before making is way over to where Henry was talking to a couple of their age. He smiled brightly when he saw Alex approaching them and held out his arm so Alex could sidle up against him. 

“Alex, this is Ben and his wife Hannah,” he introduced. “I went to Eton with Ben. He was one of the few people who didn’t drive me up the walls there.”

“Only because I was a horrible rule-breaker and didn’t bother with our posh classmates,” Ben winked at him before holding his hand out to shake Alex’s. “So nice to meet you, Alex.”

“Likewise,” Alex chuckled. “I had no idea Henry hung out with troublemakers at school. Do tell.”

“You have met Pez, haven’t you?” Henry said pointedly, making Alex laugh.

“Right,” he nodded.

“Pez is around here somewhere, too, right?” Ben smirked, craning his head before grinning at Hannah. “You have to meet that guy, he’s something else!”

“A legend for sure,” Henry grinned fondly. 

“I still remember that time he pranked the Asheton brothers,” Ben shook his head. “Did they ever find out it was him?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Henry shrugged. 

“Okay, now I’m curious,” Alex smirked, leaning in. “Tell me what this one was like, at Eton.”

“Oh, you’re sure?” Ben cooed, his eyebrows dancing. “If I remember correctly, I have an NDA stored away somewhere, do I get sued if I tell your husband what we got up to?”

“You’re still an arse,” Henry laughed, but he did not stop Ben when he launched into a series of stories that had Alex in stitches by the time Aimee waved them away. 

“I like him,” Alex announced as they made their way back to their table, “we should go out to dinner with them soon.”

“You just want more embarrassing stories about me,” Henry accused, though he, too, was smiling.

“You used your title to smuggle the three of you into a whiskey distillery overnight, while still underage,” Alex laughed, hooking his arms through Henry’s. “Those are the quality stories I need in my life. I can just imagine your teenage arses getting drunk and running from security before you get busted in the morning.”

“It wasn’t quite as dramatic,” Henry grinned, though he looked proud of his trespasses. “We got out unnoticed and sneaked back into the dorm with a couple of bottles we’d nicked. No one was ever the wiser.”

“So badass,” Alex praised as they took their seats, Aimee waiting for them with her schedule in hand.

“Enjoying yourselves?” she smiled.

“Could be worse,” Alex winked at her and she laughed. 

“It’s time for speeches,” she explained, nodding to where June, Nora, Pez and Bea were huddled together, clearly conferring. “Remember, both of you get to say your part, then your best man and women, and your parents. We’ll start with Henry, and you’re up next, Alex. Try to stick to your five-minute limit or this section will become too long.”

“We’ll be fine, I won’t talk that long,” Henry assured her, making Alex laugh.

He didn’t, indeed. His speech was short, but heartfelt. He thanked his family for their support and for being willing to bend traditions so that he’d be able to pursue his happiness. He thanked Alex for staying at his side throughout the difficult times and for never losing faith in him, even when Henry himself had done so. 

“I wasn’t always sure we’d get here,” Henry smiled softly at Alex, squeezing his hand, “but I’m so glad we did, and that you gave me the courage to fight for what I want.”

Alex felt already emotional when it was his turn to speak. His words blurred together in his mind - he was aware of throwing in a couple of jokes because the crowd was laughing (with him, not at him, as far as he could tell), and he knew that he was borrowing from the speech he had prepared as well as improvising, addressing both his family and Henry’s in turn, but his brain didn’t really catch up with the words that left his mouth. He felt a bit on autopilot. Maybe the day had been too long already, or maybe it had been one too many glasses of champagne. 

Only when he turned to Henry did his mind clear a little. There was something about his clear blue eyes that tethered him to the present, and Alex was grateful for it. He looked at him for a long moment, before shaking his head and saying, completely unscripted: “Sometimes I look at you and still can’t believe you’re  _ real _ , you know, much less that I get to spend my life with you.” Some laughed at that. Others let out soft sounds of delight. Henry just smiled at him gently and Alex took his hand, entwining their fingers. “Our relationship has never been easy,” he said, “and I don’t think anyone but us understands just how much we’ve been through. But it’s because of all of this that I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that our love for each other will never fade. It’s stronger than anything that could ever come between us.”

“It is,” Henry replied, voice soft but sure, and Alex smiled at him.

When it was time for their friends and sisters to speak, the tone changed considerably, and Alex was not surprised; if he had known one thing, it was that the four of them would take that opportunity to tease the hell out of them. Naturally, they did not disappoint.

“So,” Pez began, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “the four of us have been talking about how today came to be, and in the end we came to the conclusion that this whole wedding is a whole bloody miracle - not because it’s the first homosexual union in the history of the royal family, but because these two were complete useless  _ morons _ before they started dating.”

The crowd laughed and Alex and Henry exchanged a knowing look of suffering.

“I love my dear brother more than I can ever express,” Bea sighed, shaking her head. “And God knows his position wasn’t easy, but if he thought any of us were fooled by his act of freezing out Alex when really, all he wanted to do was shag him all the way to Sunday, he was deadly wrong.”

“Well, I know one person who was fooled,” Nora said pointedly, her eyes on Alex. 

Alex cleared his throat, making the crowd laugh even harder. 

“I remember the big talk I had with Alex after he’d first kissed Henry,” Nora shook her head. “‘He’s gay? What do you mean, I’m bi? Am I? I mean, yeah, I enjoyed kissing him, and I can’t stop thinking about him, but am I really?’”

Alex buried his face in his palm and Henry patted his shoulder. 

“It’s okay,” June said consolingly. “I know, feelings are hard. You got better at it eventually.”

“It’s not that Henry was much better,” Pez injected. “His pained expression when he got a message from Alex is still fresh in my mind. ‘He sent me a selfie from bed.  _ Again.’” _

“Hey, those were hilarious!” Alex called, while Henry only grumbled, sinking back into his chair with a flushed face. “Or, well -”

There was more laughter as the four of them continued mercilessly listing off their more embarrassing antics throughout their pining days until finally, they found some mercy by coming to a conclusion. 

“So, now that we’ve established that the road here has been long,” June began.

“Long, long,  _ long, _ ” Pez stressed.

“And hard,” Nora rolled her eyes, grinning. “Pun not intended.”

“We’d just like to stress how happy we are that those days are over and we can watch you make each other happy,” June said fondly, raising her glass. “Because you might have been morons, once upon a time, but you are two married morons now, and you’re utterly adorable when you are together.”

“Making history and all that,” Nora quipped, and the crowd laughed again. Alex shook his head, grinning. 

It was Catherine’s turn to speak next, and her approach was far more emotional. She was regarding Henry when said: “I think you were five when we were all attending a military event together. Philip was already a teenager and he was fully engaged, being shown around by officers, and Bea was at least playing the part, feigning polite interest. But you,” Catherine’s lips curled and she shook her head fondly, “you clearly couldn’t be bothered. You were moody and whiny and had no interest at all. In the end, Arthur gave in and left early with you. I was going to stop him because you were a Prince of this country and you had to learn what that entailed. After all, like Philip, you were one day expected to serve. But you know what Arthur told me?” She took a deep breath, her eyes glazed over slightly as she recited, her tone soft: “ _ ‘Henry isn’t Philip. He needs different things. Let’s not refuse to give them just because protocol might dictate otherwise.’ _ ”

Alex glanced up at Henry and saw that his husband had tears in his eyes. He reached out for his hand and Henry clung to it like a lifeline, not looking away from his mother.

“Your father was right,” Catherine continued, with her own watery smile, “as he so often was. Even back then, he saw something in you that we couldn’t see. I often wished that he’d been around. He might have been able to guide you much better than I did. But please know, Henry, that I am proud of the man you have become, and so is he. If he were here, he’d smile the brightest out of all of us, I know it.”

A tear rolled down Henry’s cheek and Alex covered both their hands with his other free hand, the desperate need to comfort overwhelming him, even though he knew that there was nothing he could say. 

When Catherine turned to address him, her smile widened.

“I would ask you to look out for him,” she said, “but I know that he’s in good hands. You’ll tear down everyone who dares to hurt him, as will he for you. That’s just the way you two are.” Alex chuckled, shrugging sheepishly. “So all I’ll say is, once again, welcome to the family, Alex,” she concluded, raising her glass. “I couldn’t have asked for a better son-in-law.”

When, at last, it was his parents turn to speak, his Mom sighed dramatically. “That is a hard act to follow,” she muttered, meeting Catherine’s eyes with a warm smile, who was still dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. She laughed, her voice a little choked. “And y’all say the British are cold and emotionally stilted.”

“Must be our influence,” Alex’s Dad grinned, and the crowd laughed. 

“Maybe,” Ellen Claremont allowed, smiling at him before her eyes landed on Alex and Henry. “Well,” she shook her head. “When I used to imagine this moment, I certainly didn’t imagine this.”

“Which part?” Oscar asked, grinning. “Him marrying a man, or him marrying a prince?”

That earned him another round of laughter as Ellen considered. “Maybe both,” she admitted. “Though the second is certainly a bit more surprising.” She shook her head, glancing at Alex, before continuing: “I keep thinking back of the day when Alex first mentioned his relationship with Henry. The revelation that he was bisexual? Well, that wasn’t such a huge deal, though he certainly seemed to think so. The fact that he had been seeing the Prince of England behind my back for the past seven month? Kind of a shock, if I’m honest. I saw my Presidency going down the drain that very moment.” There was more laughter, but when Alex’s mother continued, she was a bit soberer. “I asked him back then whether he felt ‘forever’ about Henry,” she revealed. “And he had no straight answer for me, not back then, but only a short while after, his behaviour revealed it for him: Chasing after Henry across the Atlantic, the look in his eyes when their relationship got leaked. He didn’t need to say the words. I knew it was ‘forever’ for him, anyway.”

“I knew that from the first time I saw them together,” Oscar smirked, making Alex’s mother look at him with raised eyebrows. “Alex had invited Henry over to our Lake House, and he hadn’t even introduced him as his boyfriend, but I could still tell from the way they looked at each other. Alex has never looked at anyone the way he’s looked at Henry.”

“Well, he must have got his obliviousness from me, then,” Ellen sighed, and Oscar nudged her with an elbow. “Anyway,” she continued. “What we meant to say is that we are thrilled that this commitment and dedication we recognised in Alex’s eyes back then was mirrored in Henry’s. There’s nothing more parents could wish for their child.”

The speeches came to a conclusion with a round of toasts to their happy marriage and a call for them to kiss (which Pez started, to absolutely no one’s surprise), and then, the buzz finally died down again. Alex was grateful for the break. He slid his chair closer to Henry’s and leaned in to whisper into his ear.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” Henry nodded. “A bit wrung out after Mum’s speech? But I’ll be fine.”

“You want to get out of here for a moment?” Alex asked. “Get some fresh air?”

Henry looked around sceptically. “Will they let us?” he frowned.

“This is our wedding, they’d better,” Alex grumbled.

He got to his feet and pulled Henry up by the hand, making his way to the exit. He caught Trish’s eyes and held up his palm, fingers outstretched - 5 minutes. She nodded, understanding instantly. He knew she’d cover for them.

Some people were out in the gardens. They looked up when they appeared but Alex did not make eye contact. He kept walking until he found a quiet spot farther down, in the shadows of some trees. He was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to go that far, but he could see Danilo in the distance, watching them, so he figured it would be fine. He knew Shaan was inside with Zahra, Cash and Amy. They'd talked earlier. 

“Better?” Alex asked, turning to face Henry. 

Henry nodded, not speaking. He just reached out to pull Alex against him, and Alex relaxed into the embrace, resting his face against Henry’s shoulder. He could feel Henry breath him in, his nose buried in his curls. 

They stayed like this for a few long minutes, and it was the most peaceful Alex had felt all day.

When they returned, Aimee was waiting for them, schedule in hand. “Are you okay?” she asked, her face worried.

“We’re fine,” Henry smiled at her. “Sorry for disappearing. Did we mess up the timeline?”

“Don’t worry about that,” she waved him off. “There’s always room for adjustments. We are due for the cake cutting, though.”

“Let’s do that, then,” Alex nodded. “I could use something sweet.”

“Good,” Aimee smiled, leading them towards where their cake was perched across the room. 

Seeing it, Alex had very vivid memories of crashing into a similar cake in this very room. He glanced at Henry, who was biting his lip, trying not to grin. Obviously, his thought process had gone in a similar direction. 

The host announced the proceedings, turning everyone’s attention on them. Alex and Henry, though, didn’t go for the knife, as they were supposed to - they had privately come up with a different plan. Instead, Henry asked the host for the microphone, and Alex looked around for Aimee, who was just coming out with a second, slightly smaller cake. 

“As most of you know -”

“All of them know, sweetheart,” Alex interrupted, his tone long-suffering, making Henry grin.

“Fine, as  _ all of you  _ know,” he corrected, “Alex and I have a bit of a history with cakes. We accidentally destroyed my brother's wedding cake in this very room. It’s a bit of a funny anecdote now because it ended up bringing us together, but the fact of the matter is that cakes were harmed and we still haven’t made amends. We wanted to change that tonight.”

“Philip, Martha,” Alex said, taking the cart from Aimee and rolling it towards the table where Henry’s brother was sitting with his little family, Henry on his heels. The cake on the cart was a miniature version of the cake they had destroyed the night of their wedding - the only difference was that a small chocolate plate stuck out on top of it, declaring: “We’re sorry.”  “We are very sorry for causing an incident on your big day and robbing you of your cake," Alex continued, once he'd safely parked the cart in front of them. "Please forgive us.”

Martha blinked, staring at the cake. Alex could see the wheels in her head turning. She could hardly stay angry in good conscience after such a public apology. 

Philip was the one who took the word. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said cordially. “If this incident is what brought us here tonight, I’d gladly sacrifice ten cakes.”

“Thank you, Philip,” Henry replied, and there was polite applause from the rest of the crowd. 

Jamie reached out to grasp for the Philip figurine on the cake, smearing the icing and making Alex laugh. There. At least, it wasn’t them tonight.

They then proceeded with the real cake cutting. Alex was half-convinced they’d destroy the thing in the process but somehow, they made it through, and then, they ended up at their table again, both enjoying a large piece of their Vanilla sponge with Lemon Buttercream cake. 

“Okay,” Alex mumbled, mouth still half-full. “No catastrophes. This is good. We’re getting better.”

“We just have better supervision,” Henry chuckled. “Otherwise, this would be a disaster and you know it.”

“The lack of trust!” Alex called, mock-offended. He picked up a piece of cake with his fork and delicately shoved it towards his mouth when Henry wasn’t prepared, making sure to smear the cream all across his lips.

“Hey!” Henry grumbled, mouth still full. 

“Serves you right,” Alex grinned, leaning back in satisfaction. 

Henry retaliated by picking up the rest of his cake with his hand and shoving it straight into his face. Alex squealed (in a very manly way, thank you very much), and reciprocated in kind, until they were both in hysterics, faces smeared with cream. 

“Honestly, what is it with you and cake,” June commented, a smile in her voice. “We’ll have to ban it.”

“No!” Alex called as he dapped his face with his kerchief. “Don’t take away our sweets!”

“You’re not eating them, anyway,” Nora raised her eyebrows before dropping a bit of her own cake into her mouth. “Such a waste,” she muttered, closing her eyes in bliss.

They ended up getting another piece each, which they did eat without incident. And after they had washed up and looked presentable once more, Aimee informed them it was time for their first dance.

Bea had insisted on playing for them, and as they swayed to the gentle notes of her acoustic guitar and her soft singing, Alex was glad that she had. This felt perfect. ‘Your Song’ performed like this, slow and unhurried, without much ado, allowed Alex, if only for a couple of moments, to ignore all the eyes on them and focus only on Henry and the way he smiled tenderly at him. 

They could as well be back in the Victoria & Albert Museum, dancing at night in the chapel of Santa Chiara. 

(Only with some more moves, because Clarence House had made him take formal ballroom lessons. They still kept it simple for this, though. No need to ruin a perfectly good moment by waltzing.)

The song came to an end far too early, in Alex’s humble opinion, bursting Alex’s bubble as a different one started, the band taking over from Bea, allowing the other guests to join them on the dancefloor. Henry pulled Alex close into a long, lingering kiss. 

People demanded their attention again soon after. Their mothers and sisters cut in, demanding dances. Once he’d danced with everyone from his and Henry’s mother to June, Nora, Bea and _Pez_ , who had insisted, he and Henry were waved towards the table with the Queen Mother Mary and Philip, Martha and Jamie by Trish to bid their goodbyes. 

“I’ll leave you young folks to your festivities,” Henry’s grandmother said with a stiff smile. “Congratulations again, Henry.”

“Thank you,” Henry nodded. “Have a good night.”

“We’ll be accompanying her,” Philip told him. “Jamie is becoming moody, it’s better if he gets some sleep.”

“Of course,” Alex nodded.

“It was a lovely ceremony and reception,” Martha told Alex. “You did a fantastic job. I know how hard it is.”

“Thank you,” Alex smiled at her, though he couldn’t quite tell if she was being honest or merely polite. “I’m just glad there were no international incidents this time around.”

She laughed, though it sounded a little forced. Ah. Well. Some wounds would never heal, he guessed.

“Well, keep on celebrating, and have a lovely honeymoon,” Philip smiled at them.

“Thank you, we will,” Henry nodded, and with that, the four of them bade their goodbyes, leaving Henry and Alex to their own devices. The two of them stood there for a moment, grinning at each other, and then, Pez came up behind them, pressing glasses of champagne into their hands and whooping. 

“Time for party, gents!” he grinned, and Alex laughed. 

***

“Oh my God,” Alex moaned when they stumbled up into their room, view swimming. “I’m never drinking champagne again. I’ve had enough for a lifetime.”

“Two lifetimes, possibly,” Henry agreed, loosening his tie with a sigh as he sat down on their king-sized bed. “Wow, I’m exhausted. And drunk.”

“This is our wedding night!” Alex complained, though he didn’t feel much better, to be quite honest. “You’re supposed to put out, old man!”

“Can I just lie here while you do the work?” Henry muttered, batting his eyelashes. Alex tried to look indignant, but he just burst out laughing. 

“You’re impossible,” he shook his head, throwing himself onto the bed next to him. His head was spinning from the alcohol and he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep. “We’re barely married and the romance is dead. I want a divorce.”

“We can just sleep and have sex tomorrow?” Henry suggested hopefully.

“This is our wedding night,” Alex grumbled, though he sounded half-hearted at best.

“And neither of us are untouched in any sense, so who cares,” Henry shrugged, pulling his blazer off and poking Alex in the side. He groaned but didn’t move. “We have a whole honeymoon ahead to catch up on sex.”

“Sounds about right,” Alex nodded, finally stirring to get out of his clothes. “But just for the record, I’m not doing all the work!”

“Duly noted,” Henry smiled. 

When they had stripped down to their underwear, they slipped underneath the covers, Henry’s chest against Alex’s back, his arm wrapped around his waist. Alex sighed, reaching out to entwine their fingers and closing his eyes.

“We’re married,” Henry murmured, into his hair, and Alex smiled.

“That we are,” he agreed. “You’ll never get rid of me now, Wales.”

“Good,” Henry breathed, kissing his neck. “That’s what I was aiming for.”

***

**PRINCE HENRY AND ALEX ON SECRET HONEYMOON** **  
** **IN THE CARIBBEANS**

“ _ ‘Secret Honeymoon’,” _ Alex quoted, rolling his eyes as he put his phone down. “Oh, the drama…”

“Why do you even read this rubbish?” Henry chuckled, coming back out onto the terrace with their drinks. Alex sat up to take one from his hands and Henry leaned in to kiss his forehead.

“Because I can laugh about it later?” Alex smirked, leaning back into his lounge chair. 

Henry snorted but took the chair next to him. Alex took a sip of his drink, humming in approval at the fruity taste mingling with the alcohol. “You’re getting better at this,” he commented.

“I have a good teacher,” Henry chuckled. 

Alex smiled, looking out over the beach of Saint Vincent. They’d been here for the third day now, after an initial stay at Saint Lucia. Henry had been the one choosing their destination, and while he had been surprised that he’d gone for a Caribbean tour, he had to say he was very pleased with the result. Sun, privacy and exposure to foreign cultures? Count him in. 

Though, admittedly, they did not make it out of their private resorts all that much. Most of their time was spent wrapped up in each other, enjoying their time as newlyweds. 

Alex looked over to where Henry was sitting next to him, smiling. His husband was wearing an open shirt over his shoulders - trying to protect himself from too much sun - and his eyes were closed as he was reclining in the chair, completely relaxed. It was such a rare expression that Alex was tempted to snatch a picture of it. Instead, he put down his drink and got up from his own chair.

Henry looked up when Alex climbed into his lap, a slow smile spreading over his lips. 

“Well, hello,” he said, his voice slightly husky as he set down his own glass, arms slinging around Alex’s waist. “This morning not enough?”

Alex chuckled, leaning in to press a few nibbling kisses along his jaw and up his neck to his ear, before whispering: “Never.”

Henry’s fingers traced the waistband of Alex’s trunks in apparent agreement, and Alex pulled him in for a proper kiss. 

It was true. He’d never get enough of his husband. 

***

_ A Year Later _

**PRINCE HENRY AND ALEX MOVING BACK TO NYC -** ****  
**ARE ALEX’S POLITICAL AMBITIONS RUINING HENRY’S** **  
** **RELATIONSHIP WITH THE ROYAL FAMILY?**

“I told you,” Alex sighed, showing Henry the headline. Henry just rolled his eyes as he read over his shoulder before going back to unpacking his box of books.

“ _ I  _ told you to stop reading that rubbish,” Henry pointed out. “I’ve read better things on toilet paper.”

“It’s important to be informed,” Alex argued, but he did put his phone down to help Henry unpacking, snatching a doughnut from the kitchen counter. “You know,” Alex noted, mouth still half-full, “once I start working with Luna, they’ll be all over us. Like a bee-hive.”

“Let them,” Henry shrugged. “Mum has our backs, that’s what’s important. They can write whatever they want.”

“True,” Alex agreed, pulling a framed photo from the box he was unloading. He smiled when he realised that it was their wedding portrait. “Where do we put this?” he asked, waving it at Henry.

Henry looked up, smiling. “Over there?” he suggested, pointing at one of the shelves. 

Alex nodded, walked over to place it. A few pictured were already there - mostly family: a family portrait from when Ellen Claremont first became president and one from when June and he were still kids and they all lived together back in Texas; an old photo with Catherine, Arthur, Philip, June and Henry as well as one of Arthur and Henry alone, and a later photo of only Henry with his mother and sister; a photo of Alex, Henry, Bea, June, Nora and Pez out together. Alex placed the wedding portrait in the middle, shifting the pictures to create room for more. He knew there were other pictures in those boxes - the family portrait from the wedding, for example - and they needed space, too. 

Alex startled when Henry’s arms wrapped around his waist, but he quickly relaxed into him, smiling. 

“So, we’re back,” Henry muttered, pressing a lingering kiss against his cheek. “Ready to start living happily ever after?”

Alex laughed, shaking his head. “You bet,” he grinned, turning in his arms to kiss him properly. 


End file.
